The Past and Pending
by TheMaywat
Summary: Freddie and Sam wake up in bed together, unsure of how they got there and what they may have done. Now they have to figure out what the heck happened. Rated M for language, mature subject matter and sexual situations.
1. Blind to the last cursed affair

**A/N:** Hey, all. So this bit of rambled writing was the result of listening to some tunes while sporting my "Pudding Patrol" penny tee. The song "The Past and Pending" by The Shins, to be exact (hence, the title). To be even more exact, the lyric: _Held to the past, too aware of the pending / Chill as the dawn breaks and finds us up for sale._ I felt inspired.

The title of this chapter is also taken from the song "The Past and Pending" by The Shins.

The setting is (of course) the iCarly-verse, at the start of September with the characters going into their senior year; Seddie is established. However, if I decide to continue with this story, the setting will probably end up looking more like actual Seattle (I live there). I won't be able to help myself.

Anyhow, enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own iCarly. Though I do wish I'd come up with spaghetti tacos. Brilliant!

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><p><strong>Freddie<strong>

He felt comfortable. Not footrest and a pillow comfortable (though he was that too), but favorite pair of jeans, warm cup of hot chocolate, companionable silence _comfortable_. If not for the dull throbbing at the top of his head and behind his closed eyes, he would argue that this was the most comfortable he had ever felt.

The throbbing gradually increased with his heartbeat as he slowly began to wake up.

_Ughh, nooooo…_ he silently whined. He wasn't ready to give up his comfy feeling, but the ache in his head was insistent and his mouth felt dry.

He grumbled audibly and shifted. Something tickled his nose, so he shook his head slightly to get whatever it was off. Then he noticed a certain smell. He recognized it but couldn't quite place it. Lavender, and something else. It added to his comfort bubble. He could feel himself getting hard for some reason. Someone let out a soft moan. A soft, girl moan.

_Wait, what?_

Freddie's eyes snapped open and his vision was filled with a mass of disheveled blonde curls as the warm body in front of him leaned into him.

_What the hell is going on? Sam slept over? In my bed? _He did a quick check. _Naked?_

He was lying on his left side facing Sam, his front pressed against her bare back. One arm was stretched out under her neck, and the other was draped over her waist, their legs were intertwined. She seemed to be asleep, though she began leisurely gyrating her bottom against him. He became acutely aware of his nudity.

"Mmm, Freddie…" she breathed quietly, barely a whisper.

_Oh, holy hell!_

He was now extremely _un_comfortable. He couldn't feel the hand of the arm underneath Sam's neck, and he was suddenly too warm. His headache pressed harder against the inside of his skull with his increasing heart rate, and now he was painfully aroused, what with Sam grinding back into him and quietly moaning his name. He had absolutely no idea what was going on.

He took stock of his room. The stuff on his dresser seemed to have been knocked over. His small coffee table and the chairs around it were upended or on their sides, and the rockets and alien figurines from his headboard shelf were on the floor along with the books and UFO lamp that were normally on his bedside table. _What the hell happened?_

He had a dozen questions but absolutely no answers. Why was Sam with him in his bed? Why were they naked? Did they have sex? If they did, then why couldn't he remember anything? Was he losing his mind? Would Sam know what happened? What if she didn't? Then what?

He tried to still the hips moving against him. They made it hard for him to think. _Her unconscious mind at least seems to know something…_

He had to wake her up. He didn't really want to—she was probably going to hit him if she was as clueless as he was—but he was freaking out and there was nothing else he could think to do. Besides, she was going to wake up eventually.

He scooted back as far away from her as he could get with his arm still pinned underneath her neck and kept her in place with his free hand as she unconsciously tried to follow his retreat. He knew it would be a bad idea to wake her up with him flush up against her if she, like he, had no idea what had happened.

She whined at the loss of his body heat, and Freddie couldn't help the grin that came to his face. She seemed so… vulnerable like that—her hair undone, her arm reaching behind in search of him, the nakedness of her shoulder. It made Freddie want her in a way he hadn't even considered before. He wanted to protect her. To hold her, encompass her in his warmth, and just be something reliable for this girl who never relied on anyone.

Freddie shook the thoughts away and prepared himself for whatever Sam's reaction might be.

"Here goes," he muttered to himself and shook Sam's shoulder. "Sam… Sam, wake up. Come on, Sammy, you gotta get up."

She didn't jolt awake like Freddie had expected. Instead, she awoke slowly, from her feet to her head then to the tips of her fingers. She sighed deeply as she completed her full-body stretch.

While she was doing this, Freddie was able to free his arm, and he backed away further, flexing his hand desperately in an attempt to stop the painful tingling caused by the rush of blood back into the appendage. He noticed that the blanket had fallen down past Sam's breasts. _God, her breasts look amazing! They're so perfect... Is that a hickey on the left one? Oh my god!_ His penis twitched at what the hickey might mean, and it took all of his willpower to pull his wide eyes away from the sight before she caught him ogling at her.

He sat himself up and cleared his throat. "Sam," he said firmly, looking down and turning his face slightly away from her to give her time to realize that her chest was exposed. _Say what you want about my nerdiness or whatever, but at least I have tact._

Sam went still. There was a pause, then Freddie heard a panicked gasp before Sam started yanking the blanket up and clutching it to her chest.

"What the hell is going on, Benson?" she shrieked. "Why the fuck am I naked in your bed? Did you _roofie_ me?"

He had planned to remain calm in the face of whatever Sam threw at him—words or punches—but that last comment whipped his head around and made his vision momentarily go red.

"WHAT?" Freddie yelled. "How dare you even ask me that! What the hell do you take me for, Sam? Do you really think I'd do something like that? Fuck you, Puckett!"

_What the fuck! How dare she! I'm fucking pissed that she'd even think me capable of that!_ He gave her the hardest, meanest glare he'd ever given anyone.

Sam had been ready to brawl when she saw that she was completely naked in bed with a seemingly naked boy (he was half covered by the blanket) and had no recollection of how she had gotten there. But the look in Freddie's eyes scared the hell out of her, and she immediately regretted what she said.

"I'm sorry! Freddie, I'm sorry," Sam said quickly.

She searched his face, trying to gauge his thoughts. "I just, I panicked, OK! I didn't know how I got here or why I'm not wearing anything or why _you're_ not wearing anything, and I panicked! I don't know why I said it, I didn't mean it. I'm sorry," she finished lamely.

Freddie was taking deep breaths through his nose and trying to unclench his jaw. Gradually, his expression went from one of rage to merely one of disbelief.

"How could you even think that, Sam?" he asked, the anger gone out of his voice. Though his expression had softened a bit, his eyes never left hers. He looked hurt.

"I'm sorry," Sam repeated. "I freaked out! I didn't mean it, Freddie. I'm sorry."

Freddie blinked a few times and nodded his head as if deciding the issue was ended. "OK," he said. "OK."

He let out a long breath and rubbed at his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

_Ugh! Why the hell do I have a headache?_

"I have no idea what happened either," he said. "I woke up with this pounding headache and found you in my bed with me, naked, and most of my stuff knocked onto the floor." He gestured vaguely at the rest of his room.

Sam took in the room for the first time since she woke up. Her jaw dropped.

"Holy chizz!" she cursed. "It's like a hurricane passed through here!" She gaped at the damage. "Geez, do you know what happened?"

"I'm not positive, but given…" he gestured between them, "…you know. I think I can guess at what might have happened. I'm feeling a few bruises, so I'm pretty sure..." He let the sentence trail off.

Freddie looked at Sam. She had this incredulous expression on her face, but mixed in with it was the tiniest hint of fear. It was very slight, but Freddie knew Sam better than anyone else did, except maybe Carly. He noticed it.

"Freddie?" she said.

_She has yet to call me some stupid nickname. Uh oh, this whole situation really is very serious, isn't it?_

"Yeah?"

She gave him big eyes. "We have to figure out what the fuck happened."

"Yeah," Freddie replied simply. "Yeah, we do."

They sat there on opposite sides of Freddie's bed, looking worriedly at each other, not touching.

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><p><strong>AN:** I realize, after writing all of this, that this story seems very Hangover-esque. This was not my intention, though that seems to be where the story is taking me: two people waking up with no recollection of the night before and having to piece it together in order to figure out something important. That being said, I refuse to turn this into some crass, superficial piece. The characters have much more potential than that.

So, what say you? Is this story worth pursuing? I haven't written any further yet.


	2. Red light, panic, terror! Error! Error!

**A/N:** Alrighty! So the consensus seems to be that I should continue with the story, and to be honest, I'm glad. I think it'd be cool to see where this all goes.

Two things: 1) No one is getting pregnant in this story, and 2) I have as much of an idea of what's going to happen as you do. You know, aside from the whole no-pregnancy thing. I'm uploading the chapters as I complete them, and I decide what's going to happen in the story as I'm writing. But not to worry! I write for a living, so updates will not be few and far between.

The title of this chapter is taken from the song "The Tears" by Robots in Disguise. (Partied with them in Glasgow. Those gals are crazy!)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own iCarly. Or maybe I do, and I'm just posing as a fangirl to get ideas from you o.O

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><p><strong>Sam<strong>

_Oh fuck._

_Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!_

She was panicking. On the outside, she was trying her best to be stoic because Freddie was there, but in her head she was absolutely terrified. Her temples were pounding and her tonsils felt inflamed. What did they do last night?

The dull ache in her loins gave her an answer.

She tried not to think about it. And failed miserably.

She kept her voice as steady as she could. "Freddie, could you turn around? I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

They hadn't said anything in the past minute. They had just sat there staring at each other, each inside their own heads.

Freddie blinked at her. _I wonder what he's thinking?_

"Yeah," he said finally. "Sure." He secured the blanket at his waist as he turned away from her, placing his feet on the floor on his side of the bed.

Sam looked at his back for a moment. There were light pink scratch marks along both of his shoulder blades and some scattered bruises.

_Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it…_

She spotted her shirt and boy shorts over by the closet and her bra and jeans by the dresser. She double checked to see if Freddie was facing away and darted out from under the covers to grab her clothes and head for his private bathroom.

Once inside, she locked the door. Putting her clothes down by the sink, she examined herself in the mirror.

She was a bit startled by what she saw, by how young the expression on her face made her look. Her eyes were wide, her brow furrowed slightly, her cheeks blanched. She never got used to seeing that look on her own face, no matter how many times she glimpsed it.

Her hair was a tangled mess. There was a hickey on her left breast and some other red marks along her collarbone. She could see a few bruises on her legs, but that wasn't anything new. She turned her body around to check her back, pulling her hair to the side, and gasped at what she saw.

_Holy crap!_

There was bruising all over her back. Upper, middle and lower. They ranged everywhere from very faint to almost purple.

_Jesus christ… _

She turned back around and looked down at herself. _I guess that explains the furniture._

Slowly, her face fell. She placed her hands over her lower abdomen and crotch, holding the pain she felt there. She couldn't deny it. Not when she hurt. Not when she could feel that he had been inside her, however many hours ago that must have been. _God, how is it like he's still there?_

She saw her image in the mirror blur, and she let the tears fall. No one would see.

She wasn't upset that she'd had sex with Freddie. She had already planned on doing that on their one-year anniversary in a few days. _One year! Can you believe it?_

Their anniversary fell on a Saturday, so that meant no school, no iCarly, just the entire day to themselves. Freddie said he had stuff planned for them to do during the day, but for later that night, Sam had plans of her own. Freddie had promised that his mom would be at work, so Sam was going to suggest that they head back to his place to hang out some more, maybe watch a movie, munch on some snacks, flirt. Then she would seduce him—she already bought some sexy lingerie for the occasion—and they would lose their virginity together just as they had given each other their first kiss.

But now it would never happen that way. They'd already done it. And worse, neither of them remembered anything. _That_ made Sam upset.

Her face contorted in anguish and she let out a strangled sob.

_This wasn't how it was supposed to happen! What the hell went on last night? Why can't we remember? Did we get drunk and black out? _

She _was_ feeling dehydrated, and her head hurt, but she chalked that up to being a result of all the thinking she was doing about the implications of her current situation. Or maybe she _was_ hungover. Now that the adrenaline from a few minutes ago was wearing off, her headache was getting worse. _Ugh._

She angrily swiped the tears from her face and cleaned herself up a bit before putting her clothes on. She made sure all the redness in her face was gone before she unlocked the door and stepped back into the bedroom.

Freddie was dressed. He had been righting his bedside lamp when Sam opened the door, and he looked up at her when she came into the room. She stayed by his desk next to the bathroom, swaying nervously and kneading her hands together. Freddie frowned at her, though he didn't move toward her.

"I found a, uh," he began. "I found a condom by the bed."

"A used one?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, Sam, an unused one, and I just felt compelled to tell you about it," he replied sarcastically. "Yes, of course, a used one!"

"Cool it, Frednub, before I rearrange your face," she retorted, though without much enthusiasm.

Freddie smirked at the name-calling, but his expression grew serious again at the tone of Sam's voice.

"We had sex, Sam," he said after a moment.

_Yeah, I knew that about as soon as I woke up, Benson._

"I know," she said.

"You know?" he asked, looking at her inquisitively. "How do you know?"

She raised an eyebrow at him and pursed her lips together. "I know."

He looked her up and down as if trying to glean the answer from her stance. Apparently, he was able to, because in the next moment realization spread over his face.

"Oh," was all he said.

Sam shuffled her feet a little bit. Freddie let out a breath and walked over to her. He pulled her into a hug, though she stiffened somewhat. Eventually, she relaxed when he didn't back down and instead just kept holding her. She wrapped her arms around his middle and burrowed her face into his neck, taking in his warmth and his scent. He kissed her temple.

"We're gonna figure out what happened, Sam," he said. "I promise."

Sam remained quiet. For just a few minutes, she didn't want to think about anything. She just wanted to hold her boyfriend.

Of course, her brain had other ideas. It wouldn't shut up. _Dammit!_

She turned her head so she could speak without her words being muffled. "We already know one thing that happened," she said quietly.

_We had crazy animal sex, apparently._

"Yeah, I guess we do."

They went quiet again. After a while, Sam removed herself from Freddie's embrace, nodded as if deciding something and headed towards his bedroom door.

"Well, I gotta go home and change," she said hurriedly. "Your mom will have gone to work by now, right? I don't really wanna run into her on my way out of your room, wearing what I had on yesterday. That would be bad. Imagine _that_ conversation."

Her walls were back up. _Everything's normal. Just pack up this chizz and move on._

Freddie growled in exasperation. "Sam, stop!" he said.

She already had her hand on the doorknob, but she stopped and turned around to face him, giving him her 'What is it, Fredbag?' expression.

"What?" she asked, no trace of her emotions evident in her voice.

Freddie huffed. "We have to talk about this."

"Talk about what?"

"Goddammit, Sam!" he said, raising his voice. "Talk about what might have happened last night! Talk about us having sex! Try to figure things out!"

She frowned at him. "What's the point, Freddie?"

"What's the point? The point is we had sex! We had sex and did I-don't-know-what-else, and we need to talk about it! Don't you dare go pretending like nothing happened, because something _did_ happen! Something _significant_ happened, and neither of us remembers a damn thing. I was a virgin, Sam, and suddenly now I'm not, and I would like to know how the FUCK that happened!" His face had gone red.

"Well, you see, Freddo, when a man and a woman really love each other…" she began.

"I'm serious, Sam!" he exclaimed. "Why are you acting like this doesn't bother you?"

"Because I'm furious about it, Freddie!" she shouted suddenly. "And if I think about it, then it becomes just another problem I have to deal with, and I have enough of those as it is!"

He looked at her incredulously. At some point, she had crossed the room and had gotten in his face, gesturing wildly. He set his jaw.

"I refuse to let you sweep this under a rug, Sam," he said firmly.

Sam turned away with a howl of frustration and wiped her hand over her face. She took a labored breath and stared at the floor.

Freddie waited a beat before he moved closer and gently put a hand on her shoulder. When she didn't pull away he lightly started to move his thumb in circles, trying to calm her.

"Talk to me," he said. "Please, Sam. Just… tell me what you're thinking."

She didn't move to face him. "I'm thinking that I fucked up again, Fredward," she said flatly. "As was inevitable."

Freddie spun her around and gripped her upper arms so that she wouldn't back away.

"You did _not_ fuck up, Sam," he searched her eyes, willing her to look at him.

"Of course I did," she said to his chest.

"No, you didn't!" he insisted, shaking her slightly.

She finally looked up at his face, challenging. "And how do you know that, Freddie?" she asked. "You can't even remember fucking me last night."

Freddie drew his head back as if he had received a physical blow. _Take that, Benson._

He just gaped at her, so she continued.

"You can't possibly know that I didn't fuck up, Fredwad," she said. "Come on, of course it was me! It's always me! We obviously got so plastered last night that we blacked out, and which of us would be the most likely cause of that, huh? Me! You're too good, Freddie, so of _course_ it was me. _I_ fucked up. I fucked up and got us trashed, and we had furniture-knocking sex and wasted our virginities in some wigged-out stupor!"

She felt tears stinging her eyes. _Goddammit! Don't you fucking cry, Puckett!_

"Sam—" Freddie began but was interrupted.

"—It was a fucking waste, Freddie!" she bawled. The tears flowed freely. "And it's my fault!" She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her, so instead she buried her face in his shirt.

"No, Sam, no," he tried to soothe her, running his hands over her back as she sobbed into his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, OK? If anything, it was both our faults. Don't go blaming everything on yourself when you don't deserve it."

She kept her face at his shoulder as she tried not to hyperventilate, gradually forcing herself to calm down. Freddie didn't rush her.

"This is not how it was supposed to happen," she mumbled pathetically.

"I know, Sam," he said. He took her face in his hands and tilted her head up so she would look at him. "But you were still my first, and I was yours." He held her gaze, willing her to accept that truth.

Her face was all pink and splotchy, her eyes puffy and her nose running, and her tears had gotten everywhere. _Oh god, I'm disgusting._

Freddie pulled her face to his and kissed her tenderly. More tears came.

"I love you, Samantha Puckett," he said, leaning their foreheads together and thumbing away her tears. "Even if you can't remember last night, don't you ever forget _that_."

She never cried so much in her life.

"I hate you for making me cry, Benson," she got out between sobs. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as she could.

"I love you too."

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><p><strong>AN:** Whew! Intensity in ten cities? No? Well, I tried. Review, please!


	3. Pulling the puzzles apart

**A/N:** OK, everyone. This chapter is more dialogue-heavy than the last two and, thus, is not as introspective in regards to the characters, but bear with me! Also, I've figured out what happened to Sam and Freddie. I know, I know, I said I was going to just write the story as it came to me, but I couldn't help myself. I started thinking about possible directions I could go with this, and I think I've decided on a route. It's possibly surprising in a 'WTF!' kind of way, but it's still entirely plausible given the mental capacity (aka, 'stupidity') of some people. But remember! This is not going to be a tactless Hangover remake!

The title of this chapter is taken from the song "The Scientist" by Coldplay.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own iCarly. If I did, it would instead be called iSeddie because, personally, I find them a bit more interesting.

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><p><strong>Carly<strong>

"_And I, I spit fire, on lovers and liars…_" Carly sang to herself in a state of forced calm as she bustled about the kitchen, slaving over a new pitcher of her special lemonade.

_People don't realize just how many lemons it takes to make a pitcher of lemonade! No, sir! Ha-ha! Christ, even my thoughts sound anxious…_

She had the apartment to herself. Spencer had gotten invited to participate in some "sustainable art" project called LxWxH—something to do with art in a box—and he was out looking for ideas on what to do for his art piece. Though she was alone for the moment, she expected (or more like hoped) that Sam and Freddie would burst through the door at any minute.

"…_and you, you don't believe me, and I, I find it easy, easy…_" She was onto squeezing her fifth lemon.

_Where _are_ those two?_

She checked her phone for the umpteenth time. _Still no texts._

She was beginning to get really worried. She hadn't seen or heard from them since around 9 o'clock the night before, which was weird. Usually, Sam would text her something random or wildly inappropriate every half hour when they weren't together, even if she was with Freddie. _Actually, usually the texts were about Freddie…_

She squeezed the lemon segment harder than she should have, and it slipped out of her hand and splashed into the pitcher, nearly knocking the thing over.

"Darn it!" She fished the lemon out with her hand and tried to pluck up the slippery seeds that had gotten into the juice. "Stupid lemon seeds…"

She had successfully grabbed the last seed when there was a sudden, loud rapping at the door. Startled, she yelped and reflexively dropped the seeds back into the pitcher.

"Damn it!" she cursed, but only half-heartedly. Hope rose in her chest that it would be Sam or Freddie, or both, at the door.

Before she could move towards it, the door flew open and Sam strode in with Freddie right behind her. _Oh, thank god, they're alive!_

She hurried over to them and threw herself at Sam, hugging her fiercely, then doing the same to Freddie. "Where the hell were you!" she yelled immediately after letting them go. "I called! I texted! Nothing! No answer! No response! You could've been murdered behind a tree in Pioneer Square for all I knew! Where the heck did you guys go?"

"No, you got lemon juice on my shirt!" Sam complained, ignoring her rant.

Carly gave her a severe look and was about to give her an equally severe answer when she noticed that something was off. Sam seemed nervous, her eyes pained, and Freddie kept giving her sidelong glances. Sam was still wearing her outfit from last night. _What the heck?_

Her worry returned.

"What happened, you guys?" she asked tentatively.

There were more oblique looks.

Carly let out a frustrated breath and crossed her arms. "You guys!" she repeated and waited, giving them both an expectant look.

Sam and Freddie glanced once more at each other, then Freddie finally spoke up.

"We don't know, exactly," he said.

Carly frowned at him. "What do you mean you 'don't know, exactly'? How can you not 'know, exactly'?" She said, using exaggerated air quotations.

Freddie took a deep breath as if preparing himself for a long discussion (_Well, maybe he was_) and said, "Sam and I can't remember what we did last night." He gave her an anxious expression. "We were hoping maybe you would."

_What?_

Carly looked between them. Freddie seemed sincerely worried, and Sam was giving her wide eyes.

"What?" she said out loud, emulating her thought. _I don't understand._

Freddie sighed. "We woke up this morning…" He looked at Sam, who waved her hand, rolling her wrist in a 'Get on with it' gesture. He continued, "We woke up this morning in bed together"—Carly's eyes widened—"and we have absolutely no idea how that happened."

_What!_

"What!" she said. _Man, I'm articulate._

"And we can't find our phones," he said, looking helpless. "We had hoped that you could help us figure out what happened. You know, like, maybe you saw something… or whatever."

"You guys slept together?" she shrieked, ignoring the last thing he said, mouth gaping. "Like, had _sex_?"

"Yes, Carly, I think that's what Fredtwerp meant by 'in bed together'," Sam piped up.

Carly shifted her attention to her. "Oh my god…" she said. Then she gasped, her eyes widening further as realization came to her. "Oh my god!" she repeated more loudly. "You guys had sex!"

"Yes," Sam replied slowly, like she was speaking to a child. "We've just established that."

"No! I mean you guys had _sex_!" Carly repeated. _Ugh, make sense, Shay!_ She gestured frantically, willing eloquence to come. "You, you lost your virginity!" she got out finally.

"Yeah," Freddie said seriously. "And we don't remember doing it."

Carly's mouth dropped open again. _I swear, pretty soon my jaw's gonna take up permanent residence on the floor._

"Yep," Sam said, popping the 'p.'

Carly blinked at them, trying to make sense of things. It took her a moment.

"OK, so let me get this straight," she said, moving over to the couch and sitting on it. Freddie and Sam sat down on either side of her. "You guys woke up this morning together, in bed, with no memories of last night? And you think _I_ can help you piece things together?"

They both nodded.

Carly took a deep breath. _Oh, boy._

"Alright, um," she said. _God, I'm brilliant today._ "What's the last thing you remember from yesterday?"

Freddie frowned in thought. "Well," he said, "we hung around downtown in the afternoon…"

"Yeah, and I got a free slider from that food truck!" Sam said with a reminiscent smile.

"You stole that slider from a 12-year-old."

"So? It's not like he paid anything for it! They were giving those babies out for free to all the middle school youngins!"

"You made him cry, Sam!"

"Well, that was his own fault for getting a free slider when I couldn't!"

"He didn't get one to spite you!"

"Yeah, he did!"

"No, he didn't! The Marination truck was just having a back-to-school special!"

"He gave me a look!"

"He was happy 'cause he got a free sandwich!"

"You know what—"

"—GUYS!" Carly yelled. "Focus!"

They both brought their attention back to her.

Carly raised an eyebrow at them and shook her head. "_Anyway_," she said, "You guys hung out downtown and Sam had a slider. What else?"

"Well," Freddie went on, "then we came back here for iCarly rehearsal—"

"—and dinner," Sam added.

"—and then we did the show," he continued without missing a beat. He looked thoughtful. "Gibby and Brad were here, and Gibby invited us to some last-hoorah-of-the-summer party—"

"—called The Cause," Sam offered, nodding in remembrance.

"—that Duke was throwing, and we all decided it'd be fun to check out. So we got changed and headed over there sometime around… 8:45?" Freddie looked at Carly for confirmation. She nodded.

"Yeah," she said, "and when we got there, you guys went off with Gibby to play some drinking game, and I hung around with Brad. That was the last time I saw you."

Freddie scrunched his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, and Sam put her face in her hands with a snarl. Carly looked at them helplessly.

"I'm sorry, you guys," she said. "I wish I knew more, but…"

Freddie sighed. "It's OK, Carly. We'll just have to see what Gibby knows."

"Yeah," she said weakly.

"Sounds like we got wasted playing a drinking game," Sam said, looking pointedly at Freddie. He gave her a warning expression but didn't say anything.

_Um… OK…_

They were quiet for a minute. Carly fidgeted with her fingers.

"So," she said finally, with perhaps too much enthusiasm. "Who wants some of my special lemonade?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** What do you think? You getting a sense of where I'm going with this? Do you know what happened and why Sam and Freddie can't remember anything from the party or afterward? Well, you're wrong! Ahem. Well... I'm sure you're at least partially wrong. Maybe.

And in case you were curious, the song Carly was singing to herself at the beginning is called "Spitting Fire" by The Boxer Rebellion. _Great_ song. Carly has good taste :P

Also, random facts, the LxWxH thing is real. I've spoken with the creator of it (she's a cool chick), and it's a really neat concept. It's like the whole Community Supported Agriculture thing, except with art! Cool, huh? Oh, and the Marination food truck is real, too. And, _man_, do they have some good grub!

Review, please!


	4. Can't you feel the knife?

**A/N:** I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, 'Another chapter? Already?' Yes, another chapter already! I got to typing away at my computer, and it kind of just came out my fingers. But I will tell you right now, this chapter doesn't solve any mysteries. If anything, it creates more tension. Its purpose is to take a closer look at Sam through the insightful, wonderfully chocolate-brown eyes of Fredward Benson. The plot should move forward in the next chapter, if I do this right.

The title of this chapter is taken from the song "Knife" by Grizzly Bear, which I was listening to when I wrote this.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own iCarly. But every Saturday at 8pm, it owns me.

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><p><strong>Freddie<strong>

He gripped the wheel of his old Ford Escort a bit too tightly as he drove Sam back to her place. She had insisted on being allowed to change out of her used outfit before they even thought about going any further into their investigation of the previous night's happenings. "I will _not_ be doing the walk of shame all day, Benson!" she had said.

Now she sat in his passenger seat, legs bent and held to her torso, staring out the window. She looked weary.

At Carly's, they were subjected to the brunette's 'special lemonade' after they had gathered all the information they could about the day before, which was, essentially, nothing they didn't already know. Freddie's headache was still there, though not as strong. _Maybe the lemonade helped._

Sam hadn't said anything since they left Bushwell Plaza, but he let her be for now. He knew his own thoughts; he could only imagine what hers might be.

He pulled into the parking lot of an L-shaped apartment complex and turned off his car after finding a space. He looked over at Sam, who hadn't moved.

"Sammy?" he said softly, putting a hand on her knee. "We're here."

She blinked a few times and took a breath as if bringing herself back to the present, and then looked over at him. She gave him a tired smile before unbuckling her seat belt and exiting the car.

Freddie followed her to the door of the first-floor apartment she shared with her mother, and they both went inside.

"Mom?" Sam called into the space. The place wasn't anything amazing, but it wasn't terrible either. The door opened into the living room, which had a three-seater couch, a TV on a stand and a bookshelf to either side of that. There was a small kitchen area to the right and a hallway straight ahead that led to two bedrooms and a bathroom. Freddie had been here a few times before, but not too often. Sam preferred hanging out at Bushwell.

There wasn't any response from within the apartment, so they made their way down the corridor to Sam's room at the end.

Her room, much like the rest of the apartment, felt pretentious. Not in that it was showy, but more like it was hollow—just a pretense of a room. _It's no wonder she doesn't like being here._

Freddie plopped down onto Sam's bed as she began rummaging through her closet for a change of clothes. He watched her move through her things as if she didn't want to get caught snooping. _She really wants to get out of here quick._

She promptly grabbed a red camisole, a red-black-and-tan plaid button-up, and a different pair of jeans.

"I'm gonna change, K? So don't look," she said over her shoulder.

"OK," Freddie replied, but she was already removing her shirt hurriedly.

_Holy crap…_ his eyes widened at the bruises on her back. _Did I do that?_

Sam started unbuttoning her jeans, and Freddie turned away guiltily. His heart panged at the thought that he had hurt her, and it didn't matter whether he had been under the influence of something or not. He didn't ever want to cause that girl pain—he loved her too much.

He laughed sardonically to himself. _God, how can any of this be real?_

He stared at a dent in the wall until he heard Sam say she was done.

"Is there anything else you need to grab while we're here?" he asked.

"No," she replied hastily. "Let's just get out of here, OK? This place makes my skin go all prickly."

"Alright," he said.

Sam's relationship with her mother had always been a strained one, Freddie knew. And the level of strain always directly coincided with whomever her mother happened to be sleeping with at the time. She was the type of woman to adapt herself to the man she was with, and that always affected Sam accordingly. _I guess whoever her boyfriend is now, he's no good._

They rushed out of there as fast as they could, and only when they were secure in Freddie's car did Sam let out the breath she had apparently been holding.

"Bad boyfriend?" Freddie asked.

"Yep," she said.

There were four categories.

"Alpha, addict, thief, or man-whore?" he asked as he turned the key in the ignition.

"Addict," she replied, picking at the hem of her button-up.

Freddie didn't say anything as he backed up the car and drove out of the parking lot, heading to meet Gibby.

Carly had called Gibby when they were still at her place, since she was the only one of them with a phone, and Gibby had said he was going to be on Capitol Hill attending some knitting class where he was learning how to make a beard beanie. They didn't question it. They just asked him to meet them at the Skillet Diner, a place that Freddie suggested because he thought the menu would brighten Sam's mood. (They put 'bacon jam' on their sandwiches.) Carly was going to meet them there, as well.

Freddie focused on the stop-and-go traffic for a few minutes before he spoke again.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked Sam, referring to The Addict.

She didn't respond right away. Freddie took the lack of immediate refute as a sign that maybe she did want to talk about it but wouldn't admit it. He glanced over at her. She was still picking at her shirt.

"What's his addiction?" he went on.

No response.

"Is it alcohol?" he persisted.

Sam chewed on a finger. "Yeah," she said faintly.

Freddie took this in. _Of course it's alcohol. What else would it be?_ He took a deep breath. "Is he drunk over at your place a lot?"

She shrugged a shoulder. "He's always kind of juiced, no matter where he is."

Freddie nodded slightly at that. "Has he ever hurt you or your mother?"

He had his eyes on the road, but he could see Sam in his periphery and feel her gaze against the side of his face. "Sam?"

"Like anyone could ever hurt me," she said. Though the words were meant to be light, they landed like a heavy weight.

_There's that pang again._

Freddie wanted to look over at her, but he knew the expression on her face might cause him to crash the car.

So he didn't look.

And they arrived safely outside Skillet Diner.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Oh, man! WHAT? That was _my_ thought after I wrote this chapter. What's yours after reading it? I had no idea that this little development would present itself, but there it is. And you know what? I think I like it. Let's see where this takes us, shall we?

For the Seattle factoids: 1) Yes, it has become a thing in Seattle to make, sell and/or wear beard beanies. I saw one on a baby once. It was the most hilarious thing I saw that day. 2) Yes, Skillet Diner is an actual restaurant in the Capitol Hill neighborhood that puts actual 'bacon jam' on their sandwiches and burgers. They were originally a food truck, and now they have this permanent diner location in addition to the food truck. My personal favorite thing on their menu is their grilled cheese sandwich with bacon jam. Heaven!

Review, please!


	5. Something better left unknown

**A/N:** Hiya! Shall we move the plot along? Yessum? OK! This chapter is a bit longer than the last four, but I'm sure you won't mind. You get to find out what Sam and Freddie can't remember from Duke's party (you guys remember Duke, right? Wrestler guy?) and perhaps _why_ they can't remember (a reason which you may or may not have already predicted). The thoughts in the flashback-retelling of the party, like the rest of the chapter, are from Gibby's POV.

The title of this chapter is taken from the song "Gimme Sympathy" by Metric.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own iCarly. Though I do own a collection of iCarly-inspired penny tees. "Elbow Rage," indeed.

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><p><strong>Gibby<strong>

_Damn, I look good! I'm turning some heads!_

Gibby strode into Skillet and spotted Carly, Sam and Freddie at a booth by the far window-wall. He headed towards them, strutting.

"Gibbehhh!" he announced as he reached their table.

The trio gawked up at him. He was wearing his newly knitted, chestnut-brown beard beanie, complete with a handlebar mustache. He nodded knowingly. _Yeah, they dig it._

He slid into the booth and sidled up beside Carly, looking around at the group. "What's up, guys?"

They continued to gape.

"Nice beard, Gib," Freddie said finally with a chuckle.

"You look like a stand-in from a film about lumberjacks!" Sam exclaimed, still gawking.

_I'm sure that was a compliment…_

"It looks cool, Gibby," Carly said sweetly after she had recovered. "A little strange… but cool."

_She wants me._

"Thanks," he said with a grin. "So what're you guys eating?" He skimmed over their plates of partially consumed food.

"I got the Fried Chicken Sammy with poutine and a side of bacon and extra gravy," Sam answered promptly, gesturing at the respective plate. "Fredlumps got The Basic burger with fries, and Carly got the Peanut Butter & Jelly & Banana sandwich with"—she gagged dramatically—"a salad."

"What?" Carly said defensively. "I can't possibly finish that mountain of fries!" She pointed at Freddie's plate. "Or that cheesy, gravy-smothered, deep-fried mess!" She pointed at Sam's.

"Woman, this cheesy, gravy-smothered, deep-fried mess is my life's blood," Sam replied, stabbing a fork at said mess and stuffing some of it into her mouth, moaning at the taste.

"That does look delicious," Gibby agreed. _Kind of makes you wanna swim in it. _Carly gave a look of disgust.

Gibby flagged down a server and ordered what Sam was having.

"So," he said as he poured some water into his designated Mason-jar glass. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

The air seemed to get thicker.

Gibby looked around at the three, who were themselves exchanging glances. He raised an eyebrow.

_Awkward._

After a moment, Freddie spoke up.

"Um," he said. "We wanted to ask you about the party last night." He nudged at a fry. "What do you remember from it?"

Gibby frowned, confused. "Why?" he asked. "You two were with me the whole time."

Carly looked anxious, and Sam and Freddie looked uncomfortable.

"Yeah, we know," Freddie said as he shifted in his seat. "But, you see, the thing is, Sam and I, we don't… really… you know… we just… we were kinda hoping.."

"Uh-huuhh…" Gibby prompted.

"We blacked out, Gibster, so just tell us what you know," Sam said artlessly.

"Oh, well, why didn't you just say so?" Gibby said. _I don't understand all this beating-around-the-bush business._

The three looked relieved.

"Where do you want me to start?" he asked.

"Start at the part of the night where you guys went off to play drinking games," Carly offered. "We've figured things out up until that point."

"Alrighty then," Gibby said. "So here's what happened…"

* * *

><p>"<em>God, this place smells like the inside of a shoe!" Sam complained as she, Freddie and Gibby pushed their ways past shoulders to get to the living room, where drinking games were taking place.<em>

"_It's Duke's place, what did you expect?" Freddie replied, dodging a particularly enthusiastic gesturing of someone's hand near his face._

"_I like it," Gibby said decidedly. "It's got a very manly musk to it." _Yes, _he took a deeper wiff._ I approve.

_Sam shivered. "Gross."_

_It took them a couple of minutes to get through the hallway of people. When they finally reached the living room, there was a heated game of beer pong already underway, an unlucky troll seated glumly beneath the table._

"_Geez, I thought this party started at 9?" Sam said, eying the table troll._

_Freddie breathed a laugh. "Apparently, some people decided to pre-game."_

"_Hey, I see Duke over there," Gibby said, and they followed him to a square-shaped folding table that Duke was setting up on the opposite side of the room. Most of the people there were watching the beer pong match, so this area of the room was nearly empty._

"_Duke, what up!" Gibby greeted the jock, who in the last few years had only gotten bigger—not fat, necessarily, but bigger. All the wrestling he did seemed to keep his weight somewhat in check, though he was quite obviously a heavy-set guy._

"_Gibby! Sam! Freedo! You made it!" Duke gave Gibby and Sam hugs they weren't sure they wanted and Freddie a noogie he was _positive_ he did not want._

"_That we did," Sam said, laughing as Freddie finally got himself out of the hold and promptly began fixing his hair. "Nice digs, Habberman."_

"_Thanks! It's my dad's place!" he said a bit too loudly. He was already buzzed. He cupped a hand to the side of his mouth and said in a stage whisper, "He's not here right now!"_

_Sam stage whispered back, "I think that's probably for the best!"_

_Duke laughed dumbly and invited the three of them to join him at the table. "Come on!" he said excitedly. "I was just gonna start a different game over here."_

"_What game's that?" Freddie asked, taking a seat. His cheeks were a little red, though he had composed himself._

"_Hockey!" Duke shouted, abruptly jumping out of his chair and running in the direction of the kitchen. _

Um…

_Gibby, Sam and Freddie frowned at his sudden departure, but before any of them could comment on it, he returned with a bottle of beer for each of them._

"_Woooo!" he hooted as he sat back down._

"_Hockey?" Gibby asked as he grabbed a beer, twisting off the cap. "How are we gonna play hockey on this tiny ass table?"_

"_Not, _hockey _hockey, dummy," Duke replied, patting Gibby's face. "Beer hockey!"_

"_Beer hockey?"_

"_Beer hockey!" he repeated._

"_Beer hockey!" Sam and Freddie mocked in unison._

"_Woooo!" Duke hollered again._

"_So how does it work?" Sam asked, giggling. She always thought Duke was kind of funny, in a dumber-than-your-kid-brother sort of way._

"_Well!" Duke said, fishing a quarter out of his pocket. "I will spin this quarter"—he spun the quarter—"and then call out a name. And whoever's name I call, that person has to try to swat the quarter to hit someone else's drink."—he hit the quarter, which pinged against Gibby's bottle—"And then! The person who swatted the quarter"—he pointed at himself—"spins the quarter again"—he spun the quarter—"and the person whose beer got hit"—he pointed at Gibby—"has to chug his beer until the quarter stops spinning. And if that person finishes their beer while the quarter is still alive, they can slam their beer on top of the quarter"—he did so, effectively killing the spin—"and they get to spin the quarter for the person who initially spun it for them"—points at himself—"who then has to drink too. And then we do it all over again till we're drunk!" He smiled widely._

_The three frowned._

"_I'm a little confused…" Freddie said, and Sam nodded her agreement._

"_Let's just play and figure it out!" Gibby said excitedly. _I have no idea what Duke just said, but it sounds awesome!

"_Oh! Oh! And after a name is called, you can block your beer with two fingers. Like this," Duke stuck out the index and pinky fingers of his right hand (like a 'rock on' sign) and plopped it down in front of his beer. "K? Alright, let's go!"_

"_Wait, what?" Sam said, but Duke was already spinning the quarter._

"_Sam!" he shouted. _

_He and Gibby each put two fingers in front of their beers. Freddie looked lost._

"_What?" she asked, not quite sure what was going on._

"_Hit the quarter at somebody!"_

"_Oh!" she said and swung violently at the quarter. It bounced off of Freddie's chest and dinged against the neck of his beer bottle._

"_Yes!" she cheered, throwing her hands up in triumph._

"_Ow!" Freddie grumbled, rubbing at his chest where the quarter had hit him. "Did you have to hit it so hard?" He looked hurtfully at her. "Wait, don't answer that; of course you did. You're Sam."_

"_Aww," Sam teased, pouting at him and leaning her head on his shoulder. "Want me to kiss it better, baby?" She nuzzled his neck._

"_Shut up and spin the quarter," he admonished, though he was smiling. _

Christ, they're gonna make me puke. And I haven't even had anything to drink yet.

"_Why don't you guys just screw and get it over with?" Gibby complained._

"_Geez, Gib. Cool it," Sam chided, sitting up._

"_Seriously, you should just do it already," he gibed in response._

"_Shut up, Gibby," Freddie said tightly._

"_You two haven't had sex yet?" Duke asked ingenuously, sounding surprised._

_Sam looked mortified. "That's none of your business, Habberman!"_

"_But you guys have been dating for like _ever_!" he went on like she hadn't spoken. "How have you not had sex yet? I mean, from what I've seen of how physically violent you two used to be, I would have thought that you'd be going at it constantly like—"_

"—_Seriously, man. Drop it," Freddie warned._

Uh-oh. I think I might have started something…

"_But I don't understand!" Duke persisted, looking genuinely baffled._

_Both Sam and Freddie had visibly stiffened. Gibby slumped a bit lower in his chair._

"_Look," Freddie said, "could we just continue with the game, please?"_

_Duke still seemed perplexed, but he conceded, nodding._

"_Sam, spin the quarter?" Freddie asked, still looking uncomfortable._

"_Sure," she said, grabbing it quickly and spinning it. _

_Freddie chugged his beer, finishing before the quarter stopped, and set the bottle on top of it. "Your turn," he said, moving the bottle and picking up the quarter._

Damn!

_He spun it for Sam, and she matched him in polishing off her drink._

"_Sure you never played this before?" Gibby asked, impressed._

_Sam shook her head. "I guess we're just naturals." She covered her mouth and burped._

_Gibby laughed. "I'll say!"_

_Freddie took the two empty bottles in his hands and stood up. "The beer's in the kitchen, right?" he asked Duke, who seemed to still be thinking about the couple's lack of sex life. He blinked up at Freddie._

"_No, no, I'll get it. Here," he took the bottles from Freddie, got up and left for the kitchen. Freddie sat back down._

"_Man, I'm sorry, guys," Gibby apologized. "I didn't mean to start anything—I was just kidding around. And now you're all awkward and Duke looks like a lost puppy."_

_They laughed at that, albeit a bit tensely._

_"Yeah," Sam said. "I think you broke his brain."  
><em>

Good, Gibby. Just ease the tension.

"_Don't worry about it, Gib," Freddie said. "That conversation's over now."_

"_But if you ever pull something like that again, I will pound you with my butter sock," Sam threatened for good measure._

Yikes…

"_I-I won't," Gibby promised._

_She punched him in the shoulder. "Good." _

_It took Duke longer to get back from the kitchen this time, but when he returned he had two open bottles for Sam and Freddie clutched in one hand and an 18-pack of beer held against his side with the other. He handed the bottles over and set the brick of beer down on the floor by the table._

"_Alriiight!" he said enthusiastically, seeming to have moved on from his previous thoughts on Sam and Freddie. "Let's play some HOCKEY!" _

_They played until they ran out of beer. Sam and Gibby each had four more; Freddie and Duke, five. As the game had progressed, Sam had started to get more and more flirtatious with Freddie, ultimately ending up in his lap by the end of the game, initiating a fierce make-out session._

Jesus! Get a room!

"_Um, guys?" Gibby said cautiously, trying to get their attention. "Did you want to play another round? I'm not drunk yet."_

_Sam waved a hand at him dismissively, her mouth still attached to Freddie's._

"_I think maybe they're done with drinking games for tonight," Duke said, smirking. He got up and patted Gibby on the shoulder. "Come on. Let's go check out the beer pong table and leave these two lovebirds to their face sucking." He began walking to the other side of the room. _

_Gibby stood up and followed, looking back over his shoulder at the couple as he walked away. Sam whispered something in Freddie's ear, then promptly pulled him up out of the chair and after her, hurrying in the direction of the receiving hallway._

Yeah, they'll probably lose it tonight.

_Gibby faced back around and headed for the beer pong table._

* * *

><p>"…and I think you guys left after that," Gibby said, stuffing his mouth with poutine and getting some gravy on his beard beanie.<p>

Carly, Sam and Freddie were staring at him with raised eyebrows, each of them leaning forward slightly.

"But…" Freddie said, frowning. "Six beers total? That's not enough for me to get black-out drunk." He gave Gibby a searching look.

"I dunno what to tell you, man," Gibby responded, wiping his beard with a napkin.

Sam went back to eating her food, a little more fervently than before.

"Maybe your alcohol tolerance isn't as high as you thought it was?" Carly proposed, though not too hopefully. Freddie raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, I don't know, OK!" She pouted dejectedly.

"Maybe I took us to another party and got us smashed," Sam said around a mouthful of food, not looking up from her plate.

Freddie growled at her in frustration. "Stop it, Sam," he cautioned.

She went on eating.

"Maybe Duke slipped something in your drinks," Gibby said offhandedly, sipping his water.

Their eyes all snapped to him.

_Whoa, that was a little freaky._

"What did you say?" Freddie asked, his voice low.

Gibby gulped the water that was in his mouth. "Uh, I said maybe Duke spiked your drinks. He was in the kitchen for a while that second time, and when he brought back your beer the caps were off." He looked between the three of them.

"Why would he spike our drinks?" Freddie questioned, beginning to get worked up.

"I don't freaking know," Gibby replied. "It was just a suggestion."

"Yeah, but why would you even suggest that, Gibby?" Carly asked, her expression horrified. "That's a really serious accusation!"

He frowned at her. "You _do_ know that Duke uses GHB, right?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** He, what! Shocker? Was that what you were expecting? I'm sure for some of you it probably was, huh? You clever bastards.

Of course, all the random tidbits about the food and Mason-jar glasses and such from Skillet are real. I was being legit all the way down to the side orders!

If any of you were confused about the "table troll" from the beer pong game, basically it's the person from the previous match who failed to get the ball into any cups. They're forced to sit under the table for the duration of the next game, and they have to drink the winning team's cups until the game is over. Oh, and the "beer hockey" game is super fun, by the way. You guys should try it out. Not that I'm condoning underage drinking or anything...

Anyway, please review!


	6. Ur just jealous cuz I'm young & in love

**A/N:** Firstly, I have put up various links on my profile in regards to some of the stuff from this story, in case you were interested. You know, like links to the website for Skillet and a picture of Gibby's beard beanie. Secondly, this particular chapter was a bit difficult for me to write for some reason. It's mostly back-and-forth conversation between Sam and Carly about 'issues,' and I had a tough time keeping it from becoming some kind of chatty script. Not sure if I succeeded. For your sakes, let's hope I did.

The title of this chapter is taken from the song "Soco Amaretto Lime" by Brand New.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own iCarly. I'm just a creeper.

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><p><strong>Sam<strong>

She sat beside Freddie on the ice cream sandwich chair in Carly's bedroom, her knee bouncing as she listened vaguely to what he was saying.

"We have to go over there tomorrow," he repeated for the dozenth time. "I'm gonna make that asshole explain himself."

The three of them had returned to Bushwell Plaza after thoroughly harassing Gibby for more information on Duke's usage of GHB, effectively scaring him off. They then spent the next few hours discussing everything they had learned and what it meant. Ultimately, however, they were left with more questions than answers.

Did Duke really spike their drinks? What made him think it was all right, if he did? Why would he have done it in the first place? Where did he even get GHB, and why was he using it? Didn't messing with your HGH levels go against the regulations of practically every sport? Should Sam and Freddie go to the hospital to get checked out? What were they supposed to do now that they knew he was using the drug illicitly? And also, _where the heck were their phones?_

Given all their questions and the information they had gathered, they were reasonably sure about one thing: Sam and Freddie, it seemed, had been 'amicably' drugged. Needless to say, they were not very happy about it.

"Yeah, and I'm gonna beat his ass," Sam added keenly, kicking the water-filled coffee table with her bouncing leg and causing the liquid inside to slosh about.

"Careful, Sam!" Carly scolded from her spot on the chaise.

_Yeah, yeah._

They went silent and looked tiredly around at each other. It had been a long day, and it was getting late.

"I think I'm gonna head home, guys," Freddie said after a while. "My mom's probably pulling her hair out wondering what I'm up to." He sighed and stood up. "Did you need me to drop you home, Sam?"

Sam looked up at him and shook her head. "Nah," she said. "I actually wanted to talk to Carly a bit more. Would you mind driving me home later, Carls?" She turned to her friend.

Carly looked somewhat surprised. "Yeah, no problem," she replied.

"K," Freddie said. "Well, night, Carly." He nodded to her. "Good night, Sammy." He bent down and kissed her, a little more preciously than usual. _This is only the second time we've kissed today…_

"Love you," he said when he pulled away, looking her in the eyes.

"Love you too," she responded. Her heart fluttered a little when he smiled. _Oh, this boy._

"Alright, I'll see you guys in the morning," he said as he straightened himself up and walked towards the door. "And then we can confront Duke about this mess," he added, more to himself than to the others.

"Bye, Freddie," Carly called after him. He waved and left the two girls to themselves.

Carly turned to Sam. "So what did you want to talk about?" she asked.

_Right, because there are so many things for which I would wait until Freddie left the room to talk to you about._

Sam picked up one of Carly's plastic fishing rods and cast the line into the coffee table to try to catch a fish. She looked thoughtful and hesitant.

Carly just waited patiently. She'd had these types of conversations with Sam before, and she knew to give her time.

Eventually, Sam spoke up. "I had a plan, you know," she said, reeling in a fish, dropping it on the floor and then casting the line out again.

"Yeah?" Carly said, curious, picking up a rod of her own. "What kind of plan?" She joined Sam in fishing.

Sam bobbed her line in the water. "I was gonna sleep with Freddie for the first time on our anniversary."

Carly wasn't really surprised at that. "Oh," she said. She shifted in her seat, studying Sam's face.

Sam continued watching the fake fish follow her magnetic hook. _Keep staring, Shay._

"It was going to be perfect, Carls," she went on quietly, her expression distant. "I was going to undress for him and show him the sexy underwear I bought just for that night. Can you believe I bought actual, real, woman panties?" She laughed briefly, glancing over at Carly. She cleared her throat before continuing, eyes back to the table. "And Freddie was going to be a gentleman and ask me if I was sure about what I wanted. Then we were going to kiss until we weren't nervous anymore, and he was going to make love to me." _Simple._ She picked at the rod with her fingers. "It was going to hurt at first, but he was going to be gentle. It was going to be perfect." Sam went silent again.

_Of course, that got all screwed up._

Carly gave her a sympathetic look. "You can still have that, you know," she said. "Well… you can _mostly_ still have that. I mean, it's not gonna be your first time like you planned, but Freddie's still gonna be a gentleman, and you two are still gonna kiss till your nerves are gone and make love _as if_ it's your first time." She smiled optimistically.

_Guhh!_ "That's not the point, Carls!" Sam said, looking over at the brunette.

"Then what _is_ the point, Sam?" Carly pushed, frowning at her.

"The point is I can never get anything right!" Sam responded, frustrated. "I always screw up, and last night I did it again."

"Really? Is _that_ it?" Carly challenged.

_Huh?_ Sam frowned. "What do you mean? Of course that's it."

Carly gave her a long-suffering look. "You know, you say that, but I don't believe you."

"What're you even talking about, Carly?" Sam asked, not sure where this was going.

Carly took a breath. "Why do you blame yourself for what happened last night?"

Sam blinked at her. "Because it was my fault."

"This whole thing was not your fault, Sam! You know that!" Carly exclaimed. "Why do you keep insisting that it is?"

Sam continued blinking. _Why did I want to have this talk, again?_

"What is it?" Carly goaded. "Tell me."

Sam looked around the room, uncomfortable now. "Freddie…" she began but trailed off.

Carly huffed. "You've still got Freddie!" she said. "He was still your first, Sam! However messed up the whole thing was, you still lost your virginity to the person you love, and none of the bad parts in the situation were your fault! So what's the problem?" She looked at her expectantly.

Sam clenched her jaw and pursed her lips. _Fuck._

"Sam!" Carly persisted.

"My life is just one big disappointment after another, OK!" Sam shouted, dropping the fishing rod and turning to face Carly. _There!_

Carly looked stunned. "What?" she said in disbelief. "Why would you think that?"

"Because it's true!" Sam said. "From my dad leaving, to my mom's endless stream of fucked up boyfriends, to whatever the hell last night was… It's just one huge disappointment!"

Carly tried to placate her. "That's not true, Sam…"

She kept going. "And at the diner today, when Gibby was telling us what happened at Duke's, I just kept thinking to myself, 'God, how could I be so slutty? Like mother, like daughter, right?'" She scoffed. "Can you imagine what Freddie must've thought of me?"

Carly moved to sit next to her, fishing forgotten. "I think Freddie was probably more concerned that someone tried to drug you," she told her.

Sam frowned at her for a moment before seeming to realize something and then covering her face with her hands. "Oh god, I date-raped Freddie!" she muffled into her palms. _Oh god!_

Carly let out a howl of frustration. "Sam! Quit it!" she said, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her until she removed her hands from her face. "Listen to me, Sam. You did not _rape_ Freddie! You didn't rape him, and he didn't rape you! You guys were drugged and uninhibited, and the sex just happened. And I know it wasn't at all what you planned, but at least it was still with Freddie! You are _not_ like your mother, OK? Do you hear me? And Freddie doesn't think any less of you for what happened. He isn't going to leave you like your dad did."

_Oh hell._

Sam started crying, and Carly pulled her into a hug. _Dammit! Haven't I cried enough today?_

"Freddie loves you," Carly said. "Like, _really_ loves you, Sam. And this whole thing with the party and then afterwards, none of it's gonna change that. So stop calling your life a disappointment and stop comparing yourself to your mother, alright? Freddie never has! To him, you're just his Princess Puckett. And he's probably gonna beat Duke's ass tomorrow for having done anything to hurt you!"

Sam laughed through her tears at that. "As if Freddie could beat up a meat-head who's all juiced up on performance enhancers," she replied.

"Well he'd try!" Carly retorted, smiling. "And I dunno, Freddie's been known to have bursts of extreme physical strength when he's motivated enough. Maybe he'll surprise you and just straight out flatten Habberman."

_Ha! _

Sam giggled, picturing her boyfriend beating up Duke.

_You know, that would actually be pretty hot._

"Yeah, maybe," she said, sniffling. "I could always step in if he can't take him."

Carly laughed. Sam hugged her a bit tighter before letting her go.

"Thanks, Carls," she said, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "I need a good kick in the pants now and then."

Carly smiled at her. "And I'm always happy to give you said kick in the pants when you need it." She bumped her with her shoulder. "What are friends for?"

Sam smiled back, and they shared companionable silence.

"Can I ask you something, Carls?" she said hesitantly after a minute.

"Sure."

Sam seemed sheepish. "What was it like?" she asked. "You know, your first time?"

Carly raised her eyebrows, both stunned yet somehow not that surprised at the question. They never actually talked about it, but Sam knew that Carly had had sex with Steven a couple of times before finding out he was cheating on her. Naturally, she would be curious about what Carly's first time was like, since the experience of _hers_ had been taken from her.

"Well," Carly began, feeling a little embarrassed talking about it. "It was… uncomfortable. And awkward. We kept accidentally bumping our heads together, and I wasn't sure what to do with my hands. It hurt for a while, but the whole thing didn't last very long. I never really got to the part where it's supposed to feel good." Carly shrugged. "It was disappointing, I guess."

Sam looked appalled. "Geez," she said. "Maybe I shouldn't be so worked up about not remembering my first time, after all."

Carly punched her in the shoulder jokingly. "Oh, whatever!"

"What?" Sam asked, laughing. "It sounds terrible!" _I hope when Freddie and I do it again, it won't be that awful._

"Yeah, well," Carly said. "It is what it is."

"That it is," Sam quipped.

_I actually feel kinda better now._

She sighed. "Thanks for being such an awesome best friend, best friend," she said.

"No sweat," Carly replied. "Just promise me one thing."

"What's that?"

Carly looked at her seriously and held her gaze for a moment before she spoke.

"Be good to Freddie."

_Huh. Didn't expect that._

She returned the gaze with equal measure.

"I promise."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** What do you think? Not too terrible a chapter? We got to see Sam open up a bit; that was interesting. And there was a hint in there about a possible beat down courtesy of Mister Benson. Does that pique your interest?

Review, please!


	7. Just some rage and three kinds of 'yes'

**A/N:** This story is really making itself at home at the front of my brain. I was supposed to be fact-checking a feature at work today, but while I was skimming over the article, all I could think about was what Freddie was going to say to Duke (I ended up re-reading the same paragraph for a good 15 minutes). Oops.

Anyway, there's a lot of dialogue in this chapter. And if any of you needed clarification on the timeline, Duke's party was on a Friday night and the past six chapters took place on the Saturday immediately after. This is now Sunday.

I wanted to title this chapter '_If looks could really kill, then my profession would be staring_' (from Brand New's "I Will Play My Game Beneath the Spin Light") but it was too long. So I was forced to go with something else.

The title of this chapter, then, is taken from the song "Rest My Chemistry" by Interpol.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own iCarly. Rub it in, why don't you?

* * *

><p><strong>Freddie<strong>

"Freedo!" Duke answered the door after a few knocks. "Sam! Carly! Come on in, guys."

_Stay cool, Benson. Stay cool._

The three of them had driven over in Carly's car to confront Duke about what had happened at his party on Friday night. Freddie and Sam were both wound up, and Carly was there for support.

"You here for your phones?" Duke asked as they walked down the receiving hallway and into the living room.

"You have our phones?" Sam asked, not without some suspicion and hostility.

Duke frowned a little. "Well, yeah," he said. "Isn't that why you're here? You guys left them on the table after the hockey game."

Freddie felt his ears heat up at the mention of the game. _Calm down. You don't know anything for sure yet._

"Yeah, sure," he said, playing along. "You have them?"

"Yeah," replied Duke. He invited them to sit on the couch while he went to his room to retrieve the phones.

They fidgeted in silence. Uncomfortable, Freddie stood up and began pacing beside the coffee table.

"Freddie, calm down," Carly said. "You're making me anxious."

He scoffed. _You're anxious?_ He kept pacing until Duke returned with the phones.

"Here you go," he said as he handed them over to Freddie, who tossed Sam hers and put his own in his pocket. Duke grinned as he looked surreptitiously from Freddie to Sam and back. "So, you guys had an exciting night, eh?"

Freddie narrowed his eyes at him.

_Breathe._

"Duke," he said. "I'm going to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me."

Duke raised his eyebrows but nodded. "Shoot."

Freddie took a breath. "Did you spike our drinks at the party the other night?"

Duke smirked. "So you _did_ have an exciting night, then," he said.

"Answer the question," Freddie said sternly.

Duke frowned, looking around at the three of them. Carly looked worried. Sam's expression was almost blank, and Freddie was grinding his teeth.

His confidence wavered. "Yeah.." Duke said a bit unsurely, but his grin soon returned. He leaned toward Freddie, who was still standing in front of him, and whispered covertly, "You're welcome." He winked.

Freddie's face went red.

_Keep it together, Benson._

"Is your dad home?" he asked evenly.

Duke gave him a confused look. "Uh," he said. "No, he won't be back till tomorrow. Why?"

Without preamble, Freddie struck Duke hard on the temple with a left hook.

Duke hit the floor with an 'oof!' and blinked up at Freddie, stunned. "What the _hell_, man!" he shouted. Carly and Sam had jumped up from the couch when the hit landed, rushing over to the two boys to make sure a brawl didn't ensue.

Freddie was clutching his hand. _OW! That fucking hurt!_ But he shouted back.

"Are you seriously that _stupid_, Habberman!" he yelled. "I should fucking kill you!" He was leaning over Duke (who was still on the floor) and screaming in his face. "What the hell were you trying to pull, you asshole!"

Duke's eyes were wide. This was not the reaction he had been expecting.

Sam and Carly pulled Freddie back, each taking an arm.

"Holy shit, Freddie!" Sam said, her expression going from shocked to scared to impressed to a little lustful.

"Freddie, oh my god! Calm down!" Carly exclaimed, her voice a bit high. _Yeah, right._

Freddie growled and pulled away from them but didn't pursue his assault on Duke. They backed away and let him be. He straightened his shirt and waited for Duke to get up.

It took Duke a moment to get over his astonishment at being punched in the face (by a 'nerd,' no less), but he eventually rose to his feet. "What did you do that for?" he questioned, gingerly holding the side of his head.

Freddie looked dumbfounded. "You really _are_ stupid," he said, amazed.

Duke didn't look as offended as he should have. "Why the hell did you hit me?" he asked again.

Freddie kept his astounded expression. "Because you drugged me and Sam!"

"I was doing you a favor, dude!" Duke responded.

"What?" Freddie and Sam asked at the same time. _What did he just say?_ Sam stepped up beside Freddie.

"I was doing you a favor," Duke repeated, looking between the two. "You guys hadn't even had sex yet! You were obviously just too chicken-shit to do it, so I figured I would help you out and loosen you up."

They stared at him in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me?" Freddie said.

"I don't see what the problem is!" Duke insisted. "You guys finally fucked, right? Now you don't have to be all awkward and squeamish about it."

"Oh, I'm gonna fucking kill you," Sam said threateningly, striding towards him. Freddie grabbed her before she could sink her nails into Duke's face.

"What the hell!" Duke said, backing away from Sam's reach, still not grasping the situation.

Carly expelled a frustrated breath. "You ruined it, you idiot!" she shouted at him, moving to stand between him and Sam and Freddie. Sam was still struggling in Freddie's grip.

Duke looked at Carly, not understanding.

"It was special to them, Duke!" she shrieked. "How can you not understand that? They hadn't done it yet because they were waiting! Because it was special! And you ruined it!" She emphasized each point with an angry swat to his arm.

"Ow, stop it!" he whined, blocking her, but she swatted him a couple more times for good measure.

"How can you be so stupid!" she said, backing off a bit. "Not only did you ruin something that was special to them, Duke, but you used a drug illegally!"

Duke looked from Carly to Freddie to Sam, who had finally calmed down. He was frowning.

_You can almost see the cogs turning._

Realization came to his face. "Oh," he said, but nothing more. He looked sheepish.

"Yeah," Freddie said, voice low. "Oh."

Duke shuffled his feet. "Sorry."

"_Sorry_?" Freddie resounded, raising his voice again. "Did you even _think_ about what you were doing, Duke? Did you think about how many _really _bad things could've happened? Huh? What if someone else had taken advantage of Sam, and I was too far-gone to do anything about it? What if I had accidentally hurt her? What if one of us had a bad reaction to the drug? What then? Did you think about any of that?"

Duke stared at him silently, looking like a child who had gotten caught doing something he shouldn't have. _Well, maybe he was._

"What're you gonna do?" he asked quietly, sounding fearful. "Are you… are you gonna report me, or whatever?"

Freddie sighed harshly and shook his head at him. "I should," he said. "But no."

Carly and Sam gawped at him along with Duke. "You're not?" Duke asked.

"You're not?" Carly and Sam echoed.

"No, I'm not," Freddie reiterated, looking at each of them and settling his gaze on Duke. "You're gonna report _yourself_," he told him. "Or at least tell your father about the GHB."

"But—" Duke began.

"—Remember, Duke," Freddie interrupted. "We all know about it." He did an encompassing gesture. "If you don't do something about it yourself, then we will. Try to keep at least _some_ of your dignity," he said with a degree of antipathy.

Duke dropped his eyes to the floor, avoiding looking at any of them. His ears were red.

Freddie turned around and headed for the front door. "Let's go, you guys," he said to Carly and Sam.

"Thanks for the phones, Duke."

And they left him there, staring at the floor.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Questions? Comments? Violent objections? Should Freddie have pummeled his ass?

Review, please!


	8. Jumpstart stalling conversations

**A/N:** Why, hello there! I'm in a good mood 'cause I had a fun, random-ass day. I was writing up a feature at my desk at work when the Arts & Culture Editor came over and asked me out-of-the-blue if I would like to pose for a photoshoot about 'owling' (offshoot of 'planking'). And before I knew it, I was perching like an owl on a statue of a glove outside of Safeco Field while a photographer took my picture. Didn't think I'd be doing _that_ when I woke up this morning.

Also, I would like to share a quote with you from Andrew Zimmern of 'Bizarre Foods,' who was just in Seattle: "It doesn't matter what the weather is like; Seattle is fucking brilliant." Damn straight! I freaking love this city.

The title of this chapter is taken from the song "The Tension and the Terror" by Straylight Run.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own iCarly. That's probably a good thing. Less harassment lawsuits, that way.

* * *

><p><strong>Sam<strong>

She needed to talk to him. She told Carly that they'd be over in a minute, but for now, she needed to talk to him.

She walked into Freddie's bedroom and slumped down onto one of the small chairs around the little square table by the foot of his bed. Freddie followed her in and shut the door, locking it just in case his mother decided to barge in (though, to her credit, she was making an effort not to be so overbearing). He turned around to face Sam. She was giving him a look that he couldn't quite decipher—curious but knowing, pleased yet somehow annoyed. It was a very confused look, and it left him feeling likewise.

"What?" he asked, leaning his back against his dresser and crossing his arms, not sure if he should be defending himself for something.

Sam shook her head at him. "What was that about?" she asked, searching his eyes. "At Duke's?"

Freddie frowned and adjusted his back against the dresser. "What do you mean?" he said. "I know we probably should have just turned him in for what he did, but I think he needs to be able to redeem himself. Don't you? I mean, the kid really is dangerously stupid."

Sam's expression didn't change. _You know that's not what I'm asking about, nub._

"I'm not talking about that, Freddie," she said and waited for his response.

He shifted again, standing a little straighter. "Well, then what _are_ you talking about, Sam?" he asked.

_Guh!_

She exhaled sharply out her nose. "I'm talking about you laying Duke out with a whack to the face!" she said. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"What, I'm not allowed to punch the guy for drugging me and my girlfriend to make us have sex?" he asked incredulously, pulling away from the dresser and uncrossing his arms. "Are you kidding? You've nearly _murdered_ people for a lot less!"

"Yeah, but that's me, not you," she said. "_You_ don't hit people, Freddie. Even the sports you're into don't involve any actual physical contact! I mean, fencing? Really?"

Freddie looked a bit defensive at that. "Fencing's not that far off from sword fighting, you know…" _Oh god._ Sam rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, that's not the point, Freddie," she said, sitting up. "The point is that _I_ hit people, and _you_ use your head. And what you did today, it didn't make sense."

"Oh really?" Freddie contested. "What about it didn't make sense exactly, Sam?" He seemed very interested in how she'd answer.

"It wasn't what you were supposed to do!" she said, gesturing madly with her hands.

"And what was it that I was supposed to do?" Freddie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sam responded quickly. "You were supposed to find out what happened, tell Duke off if he confessed, scold him about what he'd done wrong, hold me back when I went to attack him, and then somehow resolve everything!" She breathed.

"Sam, that is _exactly_ what happened," Freddie said. "Except you left out me punching Duke."

"Exactly!" she said.

Freddie frowned and crossed his arms again. "Are you upset that I hit him, or something?"

_Oh, lord no. That was freaking hot._

"No, I'm not upset that you hit him," she replied. "I just, I'm not sure I understand why you did it. You've never done anything like that before. It's not like you."

"Oh, you have me all figured out, do you?" Freddie mocked.

_Excuse me?_

"Yeah, Fredward, I think I know you pretty well by now," she said defensively. "Geez, what's your problem?"

Freddie laughed somewhat derisively, hanging his head a little and shaking it.

"What, Fredbag?" she asked with some hostility. He laughed a bit more before looking at her. His face slowly became serious.

"You really don't know why I punched him?" he asked. "You haven't figured that out yet?"

Sam shifted in her seat. "Well," she said, "you were angry. I get that. I just didn't expect you to get all physically violent, you know? That's not how you are. I mean, you might consider stuff in your head or whatever, but you won't actually _do_ it." She searched his eyes again. "But today you did. And I'm not sure I understand why."

_Besides, hitting people is Mama's job._

Freddie looked at her, not saying anything for a moment. He moved towards her and joined her on one of the other small chairs, the table between them.

"It can't have been from not remembering 'it'," Sam continued quietly. "You already told me the important thing was that it was still with each other." She kept her eyes on his face.

He sighed. "We were taken advantage of, Sam," he said, speaking as quietly as she had. He traced patterns on the table with his finger. "Maybe we weren't taken advantage of in the… 'conventional' sense, but we were still taken advantage of. And because of that, because of what Duke did," he paused, "I hurt you."

Sam snapped to full attention. _What?_

"Don't give me that look, Sam. I know I hurt you," he defended. "Yesterday morning, when you came out of the bathroom… I could tell." He looked down at the invisible patterns he was tracing.

Sam could feel her pulse speed up. _No, he couldn't._

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

"Sam," he said imploringly. "Don't act like that. Don't pretend I didn't hurt you."

"But you didn't," she insisted.

Freddie looked up from the table. "I saw the bruises on your back, Sam," he said, and she stiffened. "And the way you were holding yourself, and how you _knew_ we'd had sex when I wasn't sure yet… I know I hurt you." He leaned towards her, his expression desperate.

Sam was trying hard to keep her face a mask.

"Don't do that, Sam," Freddie admonished. "Don't you _dare_ go blank on me!"

Her breath shortened, but Freddie kept looking at her beseechingly.

"What do you want me to say, Freddie?" she asked with a sardonic smile that didn't reach her eyes. "That, yes, you hurt me?"

"Yes," he replied after a beat.

"Why?" she asked.

"So that I can apologize," he said simply. "And so that I'd know."

"Freddie," she said, "what happened was not your fault!" _Wasn't I just at the other end of a conversation like this one?_

His eyes were still pleading. "Will you just _tell_ me," he persisted.

"Fine!" she yelled. "You hurt me, Freddie! OK? My whole back aches from everything you shoved me up against, and I can't sit down comfortably because my fucking pussy hurts from whatever you did to me!"

_There, you happy?_

Freddie looked shocked. He had known what she was going to tell him, but still it shocked him.

"I'm so sorry, Sam," he said softly. Sam could've sworn her heart broke. _No, no. This isn't what I want._

"No, Freddie," she moved to perch herself on the edge of the table in front of him, grasping his hands in hers. "I may have been hurt, but it wasn't your fault," she insisted.

"Why, because I was inebriated?" he asked scornfully. "Do you forgive your mom's boyfriend for everything he does when he's drunk?"

Sam's eyes widened. _What!_

"What the hell are you talking about, Freddie? That's not even the same thing!" she exclaimed. He tried to look down at his hands, but she wouldn't let him. "No, look at me! That is not the same!"

He gave her a look as if he didn't quite believe her. _Is that what's been bothering him? Seriously?_

"Him being smashed… he does that all on his own, so he has to answer for that," she said. She softened her voice. "But with you… you didn't intend _any_ of it." She held his face in her hands. "It wasn't your fault, Freddie."

_God, those chocolate eyes are gonna kill me._

Freddie let out a shaky breath. "I don't ever want to hurt you, Sam," he said sincerely.

"I know, baby," she said, giving him a kiss. "Why do you think it's so easy to forgive you, Freddie-bear?"

_Oh, ew. Never calling him 'Freddie-bear' again._

He gave her one of his lopsided smiles.

_On second thought…_

"So can we drop it?" she asked, letting out an anxious laugh and running a hand through his hair. He nodded. "Good," she said, smiling back at him.

A thought struck her. "And who knows," she said teasingly, "maybe we just had really good, passionate, rough sex."

Freddie let out a startled cough and raised his eyebrows. Sam flashed him a wicked grin before kissing him again, languidly this time, tasting him. He returned it, bringing his hands up and threading his fingers through her hair. She sighed into his mouth.

She nipped at his bottom lip before pulling her face away a couple inches, and her heart nearly jumped out of her throat at the look in his eyes. He licked his lips. Suddenly, the 'really good, passionate, rough sex' theory seemed _very_ plausible. _Oh my…_ She gulped. They were both breathing a little heavily.

_I'm not ready for this yet._

Sam cleared her throat and backed away, straightening up in her seat on the edge of the table. She felt saddened at the loss of his hands in her hair.

"We should, um," she said. "We should probably head over to Carly's now." Her throat still felt thick, so she cleared it again.

"Right, yeah," Freddie replied, swallowing and bringing himself out of his daze. "Yeah, let's, let's go over to Carly's."

She nodded and they both stood up. Sam headed for the door, but Freddie grabbed her hand before she could get past him and pulled her into him, hugging her tightly. She breathed him in. Sam felt a smile spread across her face, and she hugged him back just as tightly. They stayed that way for a minute before coming out of the embrace.

"OK," Freddie said finally. "Let's go." He opened the door.

Sam smiled after him.

_Oh, this boy._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Aww. Those two really love each other, don't they?

Also, on an entirely unrelated matter, I would just like to point out that fencing is not as lame as everyone makes it out to be. Sean Bean was into fencing when he attended art school (he's got a couple medals) and _he's_ a fucking badass!

Anyhow, review please!


	9. It takes some time to grow anything

**A/N:** OK, guys. This chapter is mostly transitional. I didn't want to just rush into 'Date Night with Samantha and Fredward,' so I needed a chapter like this one. The beginning part of it is a little different from past chapters because, instead of focusing on one specific scene, it gives a brief Carly-centric narration of the past few days before easing back into the usual vignette.

The title of this chapter is taken from the song "Sowing Season" by Brand New. (I absolutely love Brand New, by the way. Jesse Lacey's got the voice of a god.)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own iCarly. Though I would _love_ to own the Shays' loft.

* * *

><p><strong>Carly<strong>

Classes had started back up at Ridgeway on Wednesday. Carly was glad. The past weekend had been a little too crazy for her, what with her two best friends getting drugged and all. Too many negative emotions had been stirred up around an experience that should have been something wonderful and exciting for them but instead had been stolen and tainted. She hated Duke for what he did, for ruining that for them, and she secretly wished that Freddie had given him more than just that single punch. Or that maybe he would have let Sam claw Duke's face off. _Either one would have been fine._

It was Friday now, and the last few days had passed without incident. _Thank god._ Freddie and Sam seemed to be almost back to normal. _Well, as normal as they get, anyway._ Though Carly had noticed some subtle differences in their usual body language.

They both still had that love-struck gleam in their eyes that they've had since they started dating, but it was a little different now. Now whenever they looked at each other, yes there was that shiny-eyed gaze that had always passed between them, but there was also a sort of tenseness to their brows—as if each was afraid that the other might suddenly get up and leave. It broke Carly's heart to see that.

_No! They're supposed to be secure in their love, damn it! Didn't they sort everything out already?_

Sam had told her about the conversation she'd had with Freddie in his room after they'd gotten back from confronting Duke. She had told her about how Freddie felt guilty for having hurt her, even though it wasn't really anything he could've controlled, no matter his good intentions. Sam, of course, thought it was silly of him to blame himself. _And it probably was, in all honesty. He didn't initiate any of this._

But Carly could understand why he would feel that way. He hated that he was the one who had personally caused Sam physical pain—Sam, the girl who drove him crazy and whom he was crazy about; his Sammy, the last person in the world he would ever want to see hurt. He'd never loved anyone more than he loved her. _Not even me._ However, despite his misguided guilt and despite Sam's flippancy, they'd talked it out and supposedly the issue had been resolved.

_But they're still acting weird!  
><em>

Carly looked across the kitchen table at Spencer. It was a few minutes past eight o'clock, and iCarly had wrapped up for the night. Sam and Freddie had gone to see a movie, Freddie insisting that such date-like activity would not take away from whatever he had planned for tomorrow.

_I believe it. The boy was good at grand gestures. And planning._

"Hey, Spence?" she said.

"Yeah, kiddo?" Spencer looked up from the print design he was working on for LxWxH. He had to have the piece completely done, acrylic on paper, by the coming Thursday for the Blitz art walk. At the moment, the design was just an incomprehensible sketch of what might have been the night sky, or perhaps an armadillo.

Carly considered the drawing for a moment, frowning, but decided that Spencer probably didn't know what it was either, and so she dismissed it. _I'll ask when it's done._

"Can I talk to you about something serious?" she asked, picking at her nails.

"Yeah, of course," he said. He put his pencil down, moved the sketch to the side and scooted his chair closer to the table, leaning his elbows against it. "What's up?"

Carly took a deep breath before beginning. "So, you know how Sam, Freddie, Gibby, Brad and I all went to that party last Friday?"

"Yea-huh," he said, nodding.

"Well," she continued. "Something happened." She cleared her throat, feeling a little uncomfortable. She wasn't sure she should be telling Spencer any of this (it wasn't really her story to tell), but he had always been her confidant. She told him everything. And she really wanted to talk about this whole situation with someone who wasn't in it. Besides, she knew Spencer wouldn't repeat the story to anyone else.

"What happened?" he asked, curious and wondering if he should be concerned.

Carly licked her lips nervously. "Well, uh," she said. "Sam and Freddie got drugged." _There, like ripping off a band-aid._

"What!" Spencer exclaimed loudly, eyebrows raised. "By who!" He sat up in his seat, looking ready knock someone's teeth in.

"You remember Duke?" she asked tentatively.

Spencer frowned. "That chubby blond kid who helped us with the baby chicks that one time?"

"Yeah," she said. "Well, the party was at his house. He was the one who drugged them; he slipped some GHB into their drinks."

"What!" he yelled again, louder. "The _date rape drug_? What the hell was he thinking?" He looked furious. Sam and Freddie were like another little sister and brother to him, and he didn't take kindly to people messing with his family.

Carly began to explain what had happened, deciding to give him the short version. "Gibby had brought up the topic of Sam and Freddie's sex life—"

"—Oh, ew!" Spencer interjected, but she went on.

"—teasing them about not having done it yet—"

"—Wait, really? They haven't done it yet? Damn." Again, Carly ignored his comment and continued.

"—and then Duke took it upon himself to 'help them out' by drugging them so that they'd be uninhibited enough to just go ahead and get it over with." She paused, biting her lip.

Spencer tilted his head at her with a 'Then what?' expression, gesturing with his hand for her to go on.

"And it worked," she said at length. "But they don't remember any of it, Spence."

He looked shocked and upset, mouth hanging open. "And that was their first time?" he asked. "The both of them?"

Carly nodded. "We spent Saturday trying to figure out what had happened, and Sunday we confronted Duke about it."

"And what did the little dick-wad have to say for himself?" Spencer asked heatedly.

"He told Sam and Freddie he had been doing them a favor," she replied. "He actually said 'You're welcome' to Freddie and then winked at him."

"He, what!" he said loudly.

"Yeah," she said. "And so Freddie clocked him in the head."

He let out a startled breath. "What!" he said, his voice getting even louder. "Freddie _punched_ him?"

"Yeah," Carly said, feeling like her eardrums might burst. "He actually knocked Duke on his butt."

A proud smirk spread across Spencer's face. "Good for Freddie," he said before turning serious again. "So what's gonna be done about Duke?" he asked. "You guys need to report him."

"Freddie told Duke that he should do it himself, or at least tell his dad," she responded, "and that if he didn't, we would. I think Freddie was trying to give him the opportunity to redeem himself. I mean, 'cause even though what Duke did was really terrible, he truly thought he was helping those two out."

Spencer stared in disbelief. "Is the kid _stupid_?"

"A bit, yeah."

"Oh," he said, taken aback. "Well, then." He paused. "Do you know if he did what Freddie told him to do?"

Carly shrugged. "We haven't seen him at school, so maybe."

Spencer shook his head, scoffing. "And you waited till _now_ to tell me all of this?"

"It wasn't my business to tell!" she defended, looking uncomfortable. "I'm only telling you now because… I wanted to hear your take on something involving all of this."

He sighed, shaking his head again. "You kids are flippin' crazy," he muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "Alright then, what is it?"

Carly took a breath. "Sam and Freddie both had insecurities about everything that happened. I mean, of course they did. Getting drugged and losing your virginity when you didn't mean to… That's not exactly something you just brush off."

"I'd say not," Spencer agreed.

"But anyway, they talked about it with each other, and they seemed to have resolved their issues about everything." She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked down. "Except they're still acting funny. Like… like they're _trying_ to be the way they were before the whole 'incident' happened, but it's not quite working. They're still in love with each other—that hasn't changed—but now it's like, neither of them are sure that they haven't wronged each other, and each is just waiting for the other to walk away." She frowned and spoke quietly, "I thought with their talk and everything, and Duke presumably doing what Freddie told him to, that they would have gotten past this by now."

She checked her brother's expression to see what he thought. He had a look that was somewhere between sympathy and amusement.

"Carls, it's only been a week," he said. "You gotta give it time."

Carly huffed. "But they're being stupid!" she insisted. "Don't they see by now that everything's going to be fine? That they're both still crazy about each other and that's all that matters?" She looked beseechingly at Spencer, whose expression remained the same.

"They'll get there, kiddo," he said. "They just need some time to reassure themselves of all of that." He reached over and stilled her hands. She had been picking at a cuticle, and it had started to bleed. "Maybe tomorrow will be good for them. You know, to help them figure that out," he said optimistically, patting Carly's hands and smiling at her.

She gave him a small smile of her own. _I knew it'd be a good idea to talk to Spencer._ "Yeah," she agreed.

"Yeah!" he echoed enthusiastically. Carly laughed. "Any idea what Freddie has planned, anyway?" he asked, putting his sketch back in front of him and picking up his pencil.

"Not a clue," she responded. "But every time I ask, he gets this self-satisfied grin on his face."

"Oooo," Spencer said, starting back in on his drawing. "Self-satisfied grin, huh? That's good. That means, whatever it is, it's awesome."

"I hope so," Carly said. "Those two deserve a good day after last weekend."

He hummed in agreement, but his attention had already been diverted. He stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth as he shaded in an area on the paper.

Carly frowned amusedly at him.

_OK, I can't resist; I'm curious._

"What's that supposed to be, anyway?" she asked.

Spencer gave her his usual clueless expression.

"I have absolutely no idea."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So how was it? Good sister-brother talk? I felt like Spencer needed some face time in this story. Besides, he's good at giving advice when he's not being an idiot or setting things on fire.

And if you were interested in knowing about the Blitz (where Spencer's acrylic print is going to be sold by LxWxH) there is a link to their website on my profile.

Anyway, you guys ready for some Seddie goodness? Cuz it's coming. ;)


	10. I'm bare boned and crazy for you

**A/N:** So this is kind of a whopper of a chapter in comparison to the others. And I'm thinking it might be the last one, as well. All the conflict has essentially been resolved, so there's not much else I can do here unless I create a new set of problems for the characters.

Warning: There's a lemon in this chapter that has nothing to do with Carly's special lemonade.

The title for this chapter is taken from the song "Crash Into Me" by Dave Matthews Band. Why? Because it's perfect.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own iCarly. If I did, it wouldn't be on Nickelodeon.

* * *

><p><strong>Sam<strong>

She lounged in a beanbag next to Carly in the studio, watching re-runs of Girly Cow on the pullout screen.

Freddie had treated her to a late breakfast at Toulouse Petit over in Queen Anne sometime around 10:30 that morning. She'd had the cured pork cheeks confit hash (_Heaven!_), and he, of course, had ordered the plain old buttermilk pancakes. _Lame. _

Afterwards, they had walked through the Seattle Center on their way back to Bushwell, stopping by the International Fountain long enough for Sam to push some kids into it. _They were laughing too loudly!_

They had slowly made their way back to the plaza close to two o'clock.

Freddie had said that he needed to prepare some things for their date that night, and so now Sam was just hanging out with Carly until she heard back from him.

"_Ya don't have to holla!"_ Girly Cow was saying on the screen. Carly laughed.

Sam sighed and checked her phone. _Nothing._ She sighed again.

Carly looked over at her. "You OK?" she asked, laughter still in her voice.

"Yeah," Sam replied unconvincingly. Carly raised an eyebrow.

"Sam," she said in that admonishing, motherly tone of hers.

Sam shifted in her beanbag. "Fine…" she muttered. "It's just, what's taking the nub so long? I'm so bored!"

"Gee, thanks, Sam. I enjoy your company too," Carly replied sarcastically, though still smiling.

"Ugh, that's not what I mean, Carls," she said. "It's just that, I thought Freddie and I would be doing stuff today, you know. I didn't think I'd just be sitting here waiting."

"Sam, I'm sure whatever he's doing that's making you wait, it'll be worth it," Carly said reassuringly.

"Yeah, I guess," she replied grumpily. "But it's already past three o'clock! I swear, if I don't hear from Fredface soon, I'm gonna—" She was cut off by her phone beeping. It was a text from Freddie. _Speak of the devil. He probably felt my threat-vibes..._ She felt a smile make its way across her face as she opened the message.

"_The Groovy Smoothie. 20 minutes."_

"Gotta go," she clipped to Carly, leaping up from the beanbag and rushing for the door.

Carly just shook her head. "Have fun!" she called as her best friend flew out of the room.

Sam had never gotten to a place so fast in her life. It wasn't yet 3:30 when she arrived at the Groovy Smoothie. She looked around the room for any sign of Freddie, but she didn't see him anywhere. _Maybe I got here too early?_

She made her way over to their usual table, within plain view of the door, and sat down to wait. Almost immediately, T-Bo was on her. "Yo, Sam," he said.

She groaned. "No, T-Bo, I don't want a pickle or a bagel or a bell pepper or whatever it is you have on a stick today," she said at once, watching the door. "I'm just waiting for Freddie, OK?"

He put a hand over his heart, looking insulted. "I am _hurt_ that you would immediately assume I only came over here to get you to buy some food on a stick!" he said before promptly shoving into her view said stick, which was lined with fruit. "Apple?" he offered.

She looked at him incredulously. "No!" she replied.

"Hmph!" he said. "Well, whatever then!" He reached into his pocket for something and pulled out an envelope, which he handed over to Sam. "Here," he said. "Freddie made me promise to give you this. Now go away if you ain't gonna buy anything." He turned on his heel once Sam grabbed the envelope, muttering to himself as he walked away.

Sam swiftly ripped it open and removed what was inside: a note and an ORCA card. She frowned as she unfolded the note and read it.

"_Hey Princess,_

_I needed some time to set things up for tonight, but I didn't want you to feel bored and neglected while I did that, so I organized a little something for you. I guess you could call it a treasure hunt._

_With this letter, there should be an ORCA card for you to use. I made sure there's enough money in the card for the number of bus rides it'll take for you to complete all this. Your first clue is on the back of this letter._

_Hope you have fun! Can't wait to see you tonight._

_I love you, Sammy._

_Love,  
>Freddie"<em>

She gaped at the letter. _Oh no, he didn't._ Without delay, she turned the letter over to see what was written on the back.

"_Where we first kissed."_

She grinned widely and got up from her seat. _Oh, it's on._

When she got to the fire escape where they had shared their first kiss, she found another envelope with another note inside it.

_"That was an easy one, huh?"_ it said. _"Well, it's only gonna get more challenging from here, Princess Puckett."  
><em>

Freddie soon had her going all over town with his little treasure hunt, though the clues hadn't actually gotten much more challenging.

When Sam had first opened the letter at the Groovy Smoothie she was a bit annoyed because she had thought she would be hanging out with Freddie, not reading notes and testing Seattle's public transportation system.

But gradually, as she was guided to note after note, she couldn't help the smile that kept finding its way to her face. Every stop in the treasure hunt reminded her of a specific moment in their relationship, and she could feel her heart swell with every clue.

"_Where you tried to get me to throw sticks at passing bike messengers."_

"_Where I spilled coffee on myself and you couldn't stop laughing."_

"_Where we fell asleep outside in the middle of the afternoon."_

"_Where we found the best bratwursts this side of Germany."_

Freddie had actually been thoughtful enough to lead her to a stop at Uli's sausage shop at Pike Place, where he'd made sure a couple of Fresh German Bratwursts were already paid for and waiting for her. _I swear, I'm gonna marry that boy._

The last note of the treasure hunt, however, simply had a set of instructions:

"_Take the streetcar from the Westlake Center to South Lake Union."_

_Well, gee, I wonder where this clue will lead me.._

When Sam got out of the streetcar at SLU, she found Freddie waiting for her in the small seating area at the stop, a pink-purple rose in hand. "Hey," he said, smiling as he got up and walked over to her. "You found the treasure."

She rolled her eyes but immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "That was very clever," she said when she pulled away. "Taking me on a ground tour of our relationship."

"Thank you," he said smugly. He threaded the stem of the rose into the buttonholes of the vest she was wearing, the head of the flower resting on her lapel like a boutonniere. "So," he said. "You ready to start our date?"

Sam, for the life of her, could not stop smiling. She felt all special and girly. Though she would never publicly admit to such feelings.

"I've been ready to start our date since I woke up this morning, nerd," she responded as flatly as she could with a smile plastered on her face.

Freddie laughed at that. "OK, then," he said. "Let's get started, shall we?"

He took her by the hand and led them north towards the lake. In a short distance, Sam found herself walking into a small seaplane terminal on the water. She looked around, frowning.

"Freddie, what's all this?" she asked, curious as to what they were doing there.

"Well, since I practically had you doing a ground tour all afternoon, I figured, why not do an air tour as well?" He grinned at her. "I had my uncle help me out with this. This company doesn't usually do private tours, but we were able to convince them. I thought you might enjoy it."

_Oh, this boy._

She kissed him excitedly and said, "Ah! I love you!" bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Freddie chuckled. "Love you too, Sammy."

After meeting with the pilot and getting everything sorted, they were ushered into a small seaplane. The tiny cabin had single seats on either side of the fuselage, each seat with its own window. Freddie and Sam took two beside each other, separated only by the small walkway. They were each given a headset that they were told had a GPS-triggered narration system, which would tell them all about the sights they would be viewing.

"So if you'll just buckle up, we will be taking off momentarily," the pilot told them from the cockpit.

_This is so cool!_ She smiled over at Freddie as she made herself comfortable. By the time the plane took off from Lake Union, she was sure her cheeks would fall off from smiling so much.

She had never done a tour of Seattle before—_any_ tour—and she couldn't help the occasional 'Eee!' that escaped her lips. _God, Freddie's turning me into such a girl._

But she couldn't really find it in herself to mind because at that moment, the view she was seeing was far too stunning. The plane was doing a turn around the airspace above the lake, and Sam was met with a gorgeous view of downtown Seattle and Elliott Bay, with Mt. Rainier looming in the distance. It was nearing six o'clock, so it was still light out, and the sun's reflection against the clouds that hung around the outskirts of the city left Sam breathless. _Wow._

The tour lasted about half an hour, starting north and then making its way clockwise around the city. Sam saw more of Seattle in that half hour than she had in her whole life—Lake Washington with its various lakeside estates on the Bellevue skyline; SoDo with all its industrial buildings, Safeco Field and the CenturyLink football stadium; Elliott Bay and the Puget Sound with all the ferries and cruise ships going to-and-fro; the downtown Seattle skyline with the Space Needle and the funky EMP building; and then back to Lake Union, where the headset narration pointed out the _Sleepless in Seattle_ lake house and Gas Works Park from _10 Things I Hate About You_.

When they finally landed back in the lake and exited the aircraft, Sam felt absolutely giddy.

"That was so cool!" she yelled a bit too loudly, her hearing having been dulled from the noise of the plane.

Freddie laughed. "I know!" he shouted back just as loudly. "I've never seen that much of Seattle before!"

"Me neither!" Sam exclaimed. She jumped at him and gave him a tight hug. "I loved it!" She pulled away and they smiled at each other.

"So," Freddie said, lowering his voice a little. "You hungry?"

She gave him a look that said 'Really?'

"Right…" he said. "Well, anyway, food is the next part of our date."

Sam smiled even wider. _Screw my cheeks; they'll live._

They headed over to this relatively new Italian place called Cuoco that was nearby in South Lake Union. Sam wasn't so sure about the place as they walked down the street toward it. _This looks kinda sketchy._ But once she caught a whiff of the northern Italian cooking that was wafting out of the building, she couldn't care less. _Mama needs her some of that!_

The restaurant was in an old retrofitted warehouse, the brick walls unassuming from the outside, so it was easy to overlook. But immediately after walking in the door, Sam and Freddie were faced with an open view of the kitchen, where chefs were preparing fresh pasta in plain sight of the patrons. Sam's stomach growled.

"Oh my…" she said. "Freddie, get me to a table right now."

"As you wish," he replied with a smirk as he turned to check the reservation he'd made.

_Wait, was that a Princess Bride reference? From Freddie? Huh…_

Once they were brought to their table, Sam couldn't quite register anything about the place—all she could think about was the delicious pasta she saw being made by the front door. The food they ordered took entirely too long to reach their table, in her opinion.

But boy, did the quality of the food make up for the wait.

Sam got the _Agnolotti dal plin_, egg pasta filled with rabbit, veal and pork, sautéed in marjoram butter, and Freddie got the _penne_ with broccoli rabe and pancetta, cooked in a garlic chili sauce. They didn't spend much time talking once the meal had arrived.

_Oh my god, I want to shower in this pasta._

Once they finished their entrees, they shared a _panna cotta_ with a topping of various seasonal berries.

"So," Freddie said as he swallowed and dug his spoon back into the dessert. "Is this an OK date?"

"Are you kidding?" Sam said around a mouthful of _panna cotta_. "This date is amazing!"

He grinned. Putting his spoon down, he fished in his pocket for a moment and pulled out a thin, rectangular brown box that couldn't have been larger than a credit card. He pushed it across the table at Sam. "Happy anniversary, princess" he said.

Sam looked at him in surprise. She wasn't used to all this special treatment. _And now he got me a present too? Christ, the food would've been enough!_

She picked it up and opened it. Inside the box was a thin silver necklace with a small 'Princess' nameplate pendant held in the middle of the slender chain. She inhaled a quiet gasp, pulling it out of the box.

"Freddie," she said looking up at him. "You didn't have to buy me a present!"

He shrugged. "I wanted to."

"But how were you even able to afford all of this?" she asked. "This whole date... the bus card, the seaplane, this dinner, this _necklace_... It must've been really expensive."

Freddie looked down at the table and shrugged again. "I've been saving up for it."

Sam frowned at him. "For how long?"

He turned his eyes back up to her. He seemed nervous now. "You know, I've just been saving some allowance here and there over the past year," he said.

She looked stunned. "The past _year_?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," he said unsurely.

"You believed we'd last this long as a couple back when we started dating?" she questioned, disbelieving.

He looked her in the eyes. "Well, yeah," he said somewhat sheepishly. "I guess I did."

Sam smiled at him for a moment before putting on the necklace, looking down to admire it. "It's beautiful, Freddie," she said.

"Like you," he said quietly. She wasn't sure if he had meant for her to hear that. She blushed.

"Well, my present for you seems pretty lame now," she said.

Freddie grinned at her. "What did you get me?" he asked excitedly. He hadn't really expected anything.

She grabbed her purse and pulled out a smallish, oblong box. She handed it over to Freddie and sat nervously waiting for his reaction.

He opened the box slowly and took out a perfect scale model of a 1981 NASA Space Shuttle. His jaw dropped.

"What!" he exclaimed, looking thrilled. "Oh my god, Sam!" She giggled at his nubbiness. "How did you know I was looking to get one of these?" he asked, turning it around in his hands.

Sam bit her lip. "Well, I noticed last week that the one you had in your room had gotten broken, so…"

"Wait, when did you notice that mine got broken?" he asked, putting the model down and looking at her.

She held his gaze. "Um, Saturday," she said softly.

They went quiet. They hadn't talked about Saturday since the day they confronted Duke. It was as if that whole ordeal had happened to someone else; they wanted to move on from it.

"Oh," Freddie said after a minute.

Sam nodded, giving him a poignant smile. "I saw it by the bed when I got up to go to the bathroom," she explained. "I know that one was your favorite, and since _I_ was part of the reason it got broken, I figured I'd get you another one."

He matched her smile. "Thanks," he said simply. "I love it, Sam." He leaned over the table and gave her a kiss.

She studied him for a moment.

"What do you say we get out of here?" she said. "I think I'm done eating for the moment."

"Just for the moment?" he teased.

"Watch it, Benson," Sam threatened. Then she muttered under her breath, "Or you won't get your other present."

"What was that?" Freddie asked. He had been signaling at someone he thought might be a waiter, and he hadn't quite heard her.

"Nothing, Freddork," she said.

It was just past eight o'clock when they finally got back to Freddie's place. They had stopped by Marie & Frères on the way because Sam had insisted she needed chocolate. "So much for 'done eating for the moment'," Freddie had commented, earning a punch to the arm.

They removed their jackets and made their way to the couch. "Movie?" Freddie asked as Sam took a seat, opening her box of chocolates.

"How about _Princess Bride_?" Sam suggested, biting into a piece of dark chocolate.

"As you wish, Princess," he replied with a grin, moving towards the DVD collection.

_There it is again! I knew it!_ She giggled.

She felt happy. Happier than she'd had all week—all year, even. Today had been more than she'd hoped for. All she had expected was a nice dinner and some hang-out time, but instead she got to ride a seaplane over Seattle and eat the best pasta she'd ever had in her life. Today had been wonderful.

And then she remembered what she'd planned to do. And suddenly she felt extremely nervous.

Freddie put the movie in the player and sat down beside her. She leaned her head against his shoulder, trying to focus her attention on the screen, ignoring the pounding of her heart against her chest. It proved to be a very difficult task.

Somewhere around the tenth _"Inconceivable!"_ Sam couldn't stand it anymore. Her chest was starting to hurt with the incessant pounding.

She lifted her head and looked at Freddie. _Just say it._

He looked over at her and frowned. "Sam?" he said, curious.

"Freddie," she said quietly, picking at his shirt. "Can we… hang out in your room?"

He searched her eyes and blinked a few times. "Sure," he said just as quietly.

He turned off the TV and got up, heading for his room with Sam following close behind. Once inside, Sam closed the door behind them, and when she turned around, Freddie was standing a few feet away facing her. "What did you wanna do?" he asked casually. _Oh, don't be stupid, Freddie._

She gulped and moved towards him. The rapid pounding of her heart hadn't let up and her palms were a little sweaty. She stopped immediately in front of him and tilted her head back so she could look in his eyes.

She had to make sure.

After what had happened last week, her emotions had been all over the place, and she had mulled over every insecurity she'd ever had regarding Freddie. She knew what he meant to her, and to some extent she knew what she meant to him. But still, she had to make sure.

"I love you," she said with as much sincerity as she could put into the words. She held his eyes.

"I love you too," he replied just as sincerely, seeming to understand the importance of the situation. "More than anything." He pushed a stray hair from her face.

She felt a weight lift from her shoulders, and she smiled. She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him.

It started off chaste but quickly became heated as Freddie opened her mouth with lips and tongue, and she accepted him. He ran his hands up her back and pulled her closer, and she had to tiptoe a little as she wrapped her arms around his neck. _God, I love this._

Gradually, she inched him backwards to his bed until his legs bumped up against it. She broke the kiss and sat him down. She tried to take in every detail as he looked up at her, his hair mussed, spots of red in his cheeks, lips swollen, eyes smoldering. Her heart skipped.

_I did that._

She grinned.

She backed away slightly, and Freddie frowned. He didn't want her to move away. But then she began taking off her clothes, and his breath hitched. She removed her vest with the pink-purple rose and dropped it onto the floor. Then, she pulled off her top and let it join the vest. Underneath, she was wearing a sheer, black lace bra that barely covered her breasts. She watched Freddie carefully. He was breathing somewhat heavily through his mouth, his eyes roaming over the curves she'd just revealed, and he was gripping the edge of the bed as if to keep himself in place.

Sam smirked and continued undressing. She took her time unbuttoning her jeans, and by the time she had slipped them down her legs and to the floor, Freddie was looking a bit frantic. He really wanted to get his hands on her.

She straightened herself up and let him take in the rest of her. Her panties were a matching pair to the black lace bra, with a tiny pink bow in the middle of the waistband on the front, like on a present. Freddie seemed to have stopped breathing. He stared.

Sam bit her lip, feeling self-conscious. _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea._

She bent to pick up her clothes, but Freddie suddenly stood up and moved towards her. Her heart stuck in her throat. He was looking at her like he wanted to eat her.

He reached a hand out and ran it up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He glided it over her collarbone, then down the center of her chest and around her waist, eventually bringing it down to rest on her hip. Sam felt like she'd just walked through a force field.

He cupped the side of her face with his other hand and brought her eyes to his. "You did this for me?" he asked softly, his voice deeper than usual.

She shivered. "Yeah," she said. "It was supposed to be for our first time; I wanted to make it special."

He gazed at her for a moment before bringing her mouth to his. There was a sense of urgency in the kiss, of want and hunger. Sam felt a small sound escape the back of her throat, and Freddie swallowed it eagerly. He pulled her flush against him, and she could feel his arousal pressing against her stomach through his clothes. _Oh god._

She tugged at the hem of his shirt, and he removed it quickly, leaving her mouth for only a second. Her hands roamed his torso, memorizing every swell and divot, before ending up in his hair, pulling at it gently. He groaned into her mouth, yanking her against him again.

_OK, he really needs to lose those pants._

Her fingers flew to the waistband of his jeans and made quick work of his belt and fly. She pushed the pants over his hips and let them fall to the floor, leaving him in his navy blue boxer briefs. He stepped out of the jeans clumsily, breaking the kiss.

Sam giggled at him. "Careful," she said. "You don't wanna hurt yourself."

Freddie looked a little embarrassed, but grinned at her. "Sorry," he said. "I was a bit distracted." He looked her over, ending with his gaze on her face, and ran a hand through her hair. "God, you're beautiful." And she felt it too, with the way he was looking at her.

He kissed her tenderly, guiding her onto the bed. She scooted back until her head rested on the pillows, Freddie hovering above her. He laid a kiss on her brow, her cheek, then her nose before returning to her lips. She pushed her tongue into his mouth. They stayed that way for a while, just kissing.

Freddie pulled away to kiss along her jaw and down the side of her neck, sending sparks along her skin. Sam breathed out a sigh. He kissed down to her chest until he reached her bra, and he looked up at her, questioning.

She reached behind her and unclasped the hook, feeling anxious at the loosening of the material against her flesh. Freddie hooked his fingers underneath the straps and pulled the piece of clothing down her arms and away from her body.

She had an incredible urge to cover herself, but she fought it, instead gripping the sheets. She waited for Freddie to do something.

After a moment, he ran a hand over her left breast, covering it and kneading it gently, then flicking his thumb over her hardened nipple. She gasped, marveling at the sensation. They had never been this sensitive when she touched them herself.

Spurred on by her reaction, Freddie took the nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over it and suckling.

"Oh!" Sam's hands found his hair, and she arched up into him, urging him to take more of her into his mouth. He obliged, sucking at her harder and bringing his other hand up to fondle her other breast. She closed her eyes and reveled in the feeling.

After a while, Freddie kissed his way over to her right breast, giving it the same treatment. Then he continued kissing down her abdomen until he reached her panties. He gave her the same questioning look he had with her bra, and she nodded her acquiescence. He pulled them down her legs and tossed them to the floor before looking down at her from his kneeling position at the foot of the bed. He looked awestruck.

Feeling self-conscious again, Sam bent her knees, keeping them together, and began to pull her legs up, but Freddie stopped her, grasping her legs. "Don't," he said. "Don't hide yourself from me."

Sam gulped but relaxed. Freddie scooted closer and ran his hands up the outside of her legs and then back down her thighs, coming to rest on her knees. He gently nudged them apart, revealing her to him.

She was a little bit terrified, but she didn't say anything. She trusted Freddie; he would take care of her. He glided his hand down the inside of her right thigh until he reached her center, running his thumb along her folds. She jerked involuntarily when he rubbed over her clit, and she let out a startled moan. He smirked at her, then moved his hand away. _Wait, why'd he move his hand?_

Sam frowned at him, but then saw him bend over and drape her legs over his shoulders, kissing up along the inside of the left one. _Oh._ She was very nervous now.

"Freddie," she said weakly. "You… you don't have to do that." She felt extremely awkward about what he was intending to do.

He looked up at her. "I know," he said. _God, I love when his voice is that low._ "But I want to taste you." _Oh lord._

Her breathing had become shallow and she felt like her skin would burn off from blushing. She just nodded at him and then looked up at the ceiling. _It's gonna be fine. It's not gonna be weird; it's gonna be fine._

She felt him lick her, and all thought immediately disappeared. She moaned, eyes rolling back into her head. He moved his tongue over her again, more adventurous and confident this time, and she was reduced to a writhing mess of sensation. His tongue was warm, roaming over the most intimate part of her, and it sent electric shocks throughout her whole body whenever it touched her, forcing sounds out of her mouth that she had no control over.

She vaguely realized that she was gripping his hair with her hands, and so she looked down. _Oh my god._

It didn't seem real, but it had to be because she could feel every electric touch. She watched as Freddie's mouth moved over her, his tongue licking and rolling and dipping into her opening. It was like he was trying to erase any hurt he may have caused the week before. _And, oh fuck, it's working._

"Freddie…" she breathed. She could feel pressure building low in her abdomen, heat spreading around to her back and down her limbs, converging where Freddie's mouth touched her. He hummed in response, and the pressure burst.

"God, Freddie!" She screamed and moaned, the currents of her orgasm running all through her. She arched and bucked against Freddie's face, unable to control her body, but he kept lapping at her until she rode it out, taking whatever she gave.

She was a whimpering heap by the time he removed his mouth from between her legs. He wiped his face with a hand and grinned at her, taking pride in his work.

"You taste good," he said.

Sam let out a weak laugh, and Freddie kissed his way back up her body, stopping to give her breasts attention before reconnecting his mouth with hers. She could faintly taste herself on his tongue and was surprised to find that he wasn't wrong. She deepened the kiss, beginning to feel aroused again.

She pulled away and nipped at his ear. "I want you inside me right now," she whispered lustily, grinding her hips into his. Freddie growled and bucked back into her, sending a shock through both of their bodies. Sam hastily started pushing his boxer briefs down his hips, first with her hands and then with her feet until they were completely off.

She looked down between their bodies. His penis was resting against her lower abdomen, its heat searing into her skin. She wasn't sure what she expected exactly, but it was larger than she thought it would be, and she was suddenly glad that she didn't have her hymen to worry about anymore.

She reached down and wrapped a hand around it, spreading the pre-cum around the head and down the length of it. Freddie groaned into her shoulder. "Fuck, Sam…" he muttered. She felt exhilarated at being able to elicit such a response from him, and so she moved her hand faster. "Fuck!" he said louder. _Oh, this is fun._

Sam smiled widely and continued her ministrations, quickening the pace. After a minute Freddie grabbed her wrist and stopped her movement, breathing heavily. He shakily reached over to the bedside table and pulled out a condom from the drawer, ripping open the foil and rolling the condom on before returning to his position above Sam.

She had stopped smiling. _This is it._ She looked nervously up at him.

Freddie brushed his fingers against her cheek. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

Sam thought about everything they went through last weekend—the 'incident,' their insecurities, how she thought everything in her life was a disappointment, how he chastised himself for having hurt her, how neither of them wanted to fail the other, how they both desperately wanted to hold onto this relationship—and she looked into the eyes of the boy above her, her lover. _Yeah. I'm sure._

She pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss. "Make love to me, Freddie," she said when she pulled away.

Freddie let out a breath, scooting down a bit and positioning himself at her entrance. "I love you, Sammy," he said.

She smiled. "I love you too, Freddie," she said. "Now, make love to me already, nub."

Freddie chuckled at that, and then slowly slid himself up and into her. Sam took in a breath as he filled her, her body stretching to contain him. It was an unusual feeling, though not an unpleasant one. It was new, and she wasn't used to it yet. Still, she liked the sensation of him gliding against her in such an intimate way. When he was finally fully inside of her, she let out the breath she had taken.

Freddie was leaning his forehead against her shoulder, and his breathing had quickened. He let out a low groan.

"Freddie?" Sam said tentatively.

She could hear him gulp. "Just give me a second," he said.

"OK," she responded softly. She rubbed her hands over his back and basked in the feel of him on top of her, around her and inside of her. He was all she could see, hear, feel, smell, and taste, and she absolutely loved it. She smiled into his neck and kissed it wetly. He shivered.

He took a shaky breath. "OK," he said and started moving at a slow, steady pace, in and out. _Oh my…_

A soft whimper escaped her lips at the feel of the friction he was creating inside of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and felt him go deeper. "Oh Freddie…" she moaned.

He let out a strangled groan and involuntarily jerked his hips roughly against her, causing her to scream out. He immediately stopped his movements and looked at her worriedly. "I'm so sorry," he said, panicked. "I didn't mean to, I just, when you moan like that, I can't control—"

"—Freddie Benson, if you don't do that again right now, I'm going to hurt you," she growled lustfully.

He looked startled for all of a moment before desire overcame him and he thrust his hips hard into her a second time. She screamed out once again in pleasure, clutching at him, and so he did it again, and again, and again. Soon, he had set a quick, hard pace for himself and watched Sam as she rolled her hips up to meet him, grasping onto his backside and holding onto every thrust he forced into her. It was the most erotic thing he had ever seen.

Suddenly, Sam pushed him back so that he was sitting with her straddling him. She gasped sharply at the feel of this new position. He had somehow gone even deeper inside of her, to the point where it was almost painful (_almost_), and her clit was pressed up deliciously against his pubic bone. "Oh god…" she muttered, taking a moment to get used to everything she was feeling.

Then Freddie took her breast into his mouth. "Oh god!" she repeated loudly and began grinding her hips. "Oh…" With every backward motion, she felt an entirely new, luscious sensation pass through the whole lower half of her body as his penis pressed against a certain spot inside of her. With the combination of that and the pressure against her clit, she quickly felt another orgasm building in her belly. She moved her hips faster, holding Freddie's head against her breast and breathing so fast she thought she might pass out. She felt him swell inside of her and vaguely heard him groaning her name against her chest. Her hearing dulled as her body exploded in the deepest, most thorough orgasm she had yet experienced. She could feel it from the pit of her stomach to the top of her head. She was pretty sure she was screaming, but it didn't quite register in the midst of that pure, pleasurable sensation.

She felt herself fall forward onto Freddie as he collapsed onto his back, both of them gasping for breath. There was a ringing in Sam's ears, and her throat felt raw. _Oh my fucking god._

She hugged Freddie's chest as they slowly caught their breath, and he ran his hands up and down her back. An aftershock hit her, and she involuntarily clenched around him, causing him to scream out and thrust into her, in turn making her scream out as well. _Fuck!  
><em>

It didn't happen again, and so they laid there for a while until Sam felt Freddie begin to soften inside her. She sat up, and he made sure the condom was secure before she slid off of him and he headed to the bathroom to dispose of it. When he returned, Sam had gotten comfortable under the covers and he scooted in to join her, putting his arm around her and resting her head on his chest. He kissed the top of her head.

"Happy anniversary, Sammy," he said after a while.

Sam hummed contentedly. "Happy anniversary, Freddie-bear," she replied. Freddie chuckled at the pet name.

"So," he said, stifling a yawn. "How was your second first time?"

She giggled sleepily into his chest. _Oh, this boy._

"It was perfect."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So what did you think? Sad to see these guys go? Well, I wrote a oneshot of 'the incident' from this as a separate fic, since I couldn't put it in this story because the characters are not supposed to remember it. You can find it on my profile, aptly titled "The Incident."

As always, the Seattle tidbits are real. Links to the following are on my profile: the websites for Toulouse Petit, Uli's, Cuoco, and Marie & Frères, and pictures of the International Fountain and the beautiful view of Seattle from the seaplane over Lake Union. Oh, and I also added a link to a video of a couple of my friends facing off at the end of a game of beer hockey, if you were interested.

It's been a pleasure, guys. Happy reading and writing to you all.


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